


I Love You Like the Stars Fall

by DeanRiordain, RowanMarsters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 1990s, Acceptance, Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - 1990s, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad Decisions, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Break Up, Canon Gay Relationship, Castiel's First Kiss, Coming Out, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Dean-Centric, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, First Love, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Getting Together, Growing Up, High School, High School Castiel/Dean Winchester, High School Student Castiel, High School Student Dean, Human Castiel, Hunter Dean, Hurt Dean Winchester, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nerd Castiel, POV Castiel, POV Dean Winchester, Personal Growth, Popular Dean, Promises, Rimming, Self-Acceptance, Supernatural Elements, Top Castiel, Top Dean, Triggers, castiel - Freeform, change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2018-08-10 06:36:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 202,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7834048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanRiordain/pseuds/DeanRiordain, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowanMarsters/pseuds/RowanMarsters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They didn't have much, if anything, in common. It's 1998 and Dean Winchester just started junior year at probably his twentieth school. He'd like to think of himself as the outsider; but, to the nerdy sophomore Castiel Novak, he's just another of the popular kids. That is, until he isn't. What he truly IS, remains unclear to Castiel as the two pave the way to an unlikely friendship. Dean's only hiding one important detail: he's already fallen head over heels for his sweet angel, Cas. Things aren't as easy as they seem, though. Dean has no idea of the not-so-dusty skeletons hiding in his angel's closet. Meanwhile, Castiel is in the dark about the things that go bump in the night and the world that Dean has always been part of. With so much to hide, is there hope of a foundation of love from something that was doomed from the beginning?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Side-by-Side

**Author's Note:**

> First off, thank you for reading this- this story means a ton to me, and so do you for reading it. I'd like to ask if it's not too much, to please leave a comment below if you enjoyed.  
> There are a few warnings and differences in this story that I'd like to clear up:  
> There are original characters that are a big part of the story (though, Castiel and Dean are the main characters).  
> This is a High School AU. I have tagged it underage. So there is sexual content starting with a flashback (Age 14). Not your cup of tea? That's fine. They are old enough to be aware of what they are doing. I don't need hate from this- as it is not mindless and advances the story. You are reading a High School AU- I'm not sure what else you'd expect. Fluff? There's plenty of that, too <3 ;)  
> There are triggers later in the story. I will post them at the beginning of each chapter as a warning as I don't want anyone to be personally affected by this.  
> This is based in the late 90s. I'm aware that this makes Dean older than he is in the story- so, for this story's purposes, Dean was not born in 1979. He's a Junior in High School in 1998.  
> Last, but most certainly not least, my cover was created and commissioned specifically for this story by the wonderfully talented Marcia, please have a look at her other work and let her know how amazing she is [(Here)](https://m-arci-a.tumblr.com/)  
> I ask that because the cover was made for this story that you respect myself, and the artist and please not distribute it elsewhere.

 

* * *

* * *

**_Fall,_ ** **_1998_ **

 

_And even as I wander I'm keeping you in sight,_

_You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night,_

_And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might..._

Dean Winchester found himself tapping out the sappiest of classic rock songs with his pencil as he stared absently at the back of Castiel Novak’s head in study hall again- it was becoming habit. One he should stop. Before it got worse.

Castiel was a sophomore, a year younger than him. Most people would have regarded him as the shy, nerdy boy in the glasses that kept his nose buried in a book and never talked to anyone. All of these things were true, but they weren’t the features that Dean would use to define him. He was so much more than that.

In one word: breathtaking. He was kind, Dean knew from watching for half a year, from the distance, of course. Mostly from the seat two rows behind him in US History last semester. Castiel was the kind who made copies of his notes for the kids that were absent, and stayed after school occasionally to tutor.

He was also incredibly smart. It was common knowledge that Castiel was in the top 5% of the school, and hadn’t seen a grade lower than an 89%. Knowing these things didn’t set Dean Winchester apart from anyone else’s opinion of Castiel Novak, because they were, well, fact.

What most people wouldn’t have said about Castiel, however, was that his eyes were the color of blue people write songs about, and his hair was dark in contrast. They wouldn’t have said that his voice had a way of making you care about whatever was being said, and that he was pretty much a literal angel wearing long sleeves and cargo pants. Those thoughts were Dean’s, and no one else knew them, let alone the boy sitting in front of him, reading _Hamlet._

_And, I’m just a pain in the ass to him._

“Hey, Castiel,” Dean whispered rather audibly, “What are you reading?” He’d leaned so far over the table to peek that he may as well have been laying on it. On Dean’s desk rest empty notebooks, unused pencils, and mostly unopened books. Why bother trying, there was never a point.

“It’s Shakespeare for English class,”  Castiel said, without bothering to turn around.

Castiel didn’t know what to make of Dean Winchester. He was on the football team, didn’t study in study hall, and he was dating Anna, Castiel’s sister. All of these things were red flags, labeling him as someone Castiel didn’t want to mess with, mostly because these were the type of people that bullied him. He’d had his fair share of dealings with the football team, as well as with his sister’s friends.

_“Where you going Novak?” the quarterback, Kevin, would ask before grabbing him and stuffing him into one of the gym lockers._

_“Please, no!” Castiel had tried to scream, but another boy shoved a dirty sock in his mouth and Kevin slammed the door shut._

So why wasn’t Dean like the others? Why did he keep trying to talk to him? He was an enigma for sure, one Castiel was uncertain if he wanted to solve.

“D’you ever just read for fun?” Dean teased, gently. Every day he asked what Castiel was doing, and, every day, like clockwork, Castiel would respond with ‘homework’. “Let’s be honest here, you could probably not study for anything and still ace it, blow anyone out of the water without even trying.” The pencil riffs were becoming more aggressive. Complimenting Castiel made Dean nervous.

“I’d really rather not take that chance,” Castiel retorted, before adding, “And yes, I do read for fun.”

“So, what do you actually _like_ to read?” _Thump, thump._

The sound of Dean’s pencil began to grate on Castiel’s nerves.

“All sorts of things. The Lord of the Rings is one of my favorites.”

Dean grinned. It was one of his, too. He’d worn the book out reading it to Sammy when they were younger; but, it had been a long time. “Three rings for the elven kings under the sky...seven for the dwarf lords in halls of stone, nine for mortal men doomed to die, one for the dark lord on his dark throne- in the land of Mordor where the shadows lie. One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them. One ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them.”

That was enough to make Castiel turn around and look at Dean. He had beautiful green eyes, blondish brown hair and freckles on his cheeks. He’d never really noticed his freckles before. They were particularly aggressive over his nose...funny, he’d never really paid attention. “You’ve read the Lord of the Rings?”

Dean sucked in a breath. He had to. His eyes were cobalt blue and stunning- he could easily get lost. It took him a second to register that he was being spoken to, “Uh...yeah. And the Hobbit. Silmarillion, too. I’m not as dumb as I look.” He was sure the smile he gave him was pretty dumb.

“I never said you looked dumb, just...I assumed reading wasn’t your thing.”

Dean wasn’t sure whether he was more impressed with the fact that Castiel had at least thought about what his ‘thing’ was; or upset as to that he apparently thought he was either stupid, or illiterate. “It’s not, not really. But, I can appreciate Lord of the Rings. It’s pretty badass.”

_Badass, Dean? Really? Well, I guess it beats telling him that you used to read to your little brother every night religiously._

He wondered what else Castiel thought about him. Did he think that football was his thing? It wasn’t. He wasn’t like them. The tapping grew louder and Dean flushed. Football could be his thing if Castiel was there to cheer him on, hair messy and cheeks red from the wind.

“Can you please stop tapping your pencil? Some of us use study hall to actually study,” he finally asked as gently as he could. He couldn’t take that irritating sound anymore.

Dean’s heart deflated, and he nodded, packing the pencil away. The comment actually stung. Dad made him go to school, thought it encouraged Sam. But, there were no expectations though, no desire for Dean to be the best student he could be. John wanted Dean to be a hunter. So, why should Dean bother studying? He’d taken the bare minimum classes this year, and was failing most of them.

Castiel Novak didn’t know that Dean slept through the classes and threw away his homework because he had no future- not because he was stupid.

When he was in fourth grade, and Sammy had started Kindergarten, dad had left them with Uncle Bobby for a long time- a semester and a couple months, if he remembered right. He remembered a lot of good things about that year- but especially when he came home grinning from ear to ear with “Look, Uncle Bobby, I got all A’s!”

Uncle Bobby had pinned it on the fridge, and taken both he and Sam out for ice cream to celebrate Dean’s accomplishment. When dad came back, it was his greatest prize. But, when he pulled it off the fridge, and showed John- his dad had sent him into the other room and he and Bobby had one of their classic fights.

_Books aren’t going to keep him safe, Bobby. I told you to practice with the shotgun, not with his spelling._

_The kid’s smart, John, real smart. Give him a chance to live his life._

_I can’t do that. You know what’s out there._

_Damn it, John, he has a choice._

_He’s my son, Bobby. Not yours. That’s my choice to make._

He’d appreciated the effort; but, he’d known even then somewhere deep down that he’d never have a choice, not really.

“What do you want to be, Cas?” he said, absently shortening Castiel’s name, “When you’re done here?”

“It’s Castiel. I’m going to go to college upstate to be a nurse.”

Dean smiled again, “You’ll be good at that.” He ignored that Castiel didn’t like his name shortened; but, regardless, didn’t speak it again.

“Thanks, I hope so,” Castiel said, turning back to his book. _Why does he keep talking to me?_ “What about you?”

Dean’s eyes widened. He hadn’t really expected the question back. “...Nothing.” he answered, more quietly than he really ever was.

“That’s not really an answer,” Castiel said, turning back around. _What does he even mean by nothing?_

“It’s the truth,” Dean replied, “You said it yourself...I’m not...that type, right?”

“That’s not what I said at all,” Castiel countered, “What I said was that you didn’t seem like the type that reads for fun. Why do you think you’re doing nothing?”

Dean shrugged, “Cause it’s the truth.” He felt himself growing a bit defensive, against his will. This wasn’t how he’d anticipated this going...not at all. The tension in the air was stifling.

“Well, it’s not true,” Castiel said softly.

“You don’t even know me…” Dean said, before he could think. The words sank in and stabbed at him like a knife in the heart. Castiel didn’t know him. Not at all. Not the first thing about him.

“You’re right. I don’t. But anyone who reads something as badass as Lord of the Rings isn’t just going to end up doing nothing. I refuse to believe that. You’re not nothing, Dean.”

He was definitely something. Castiel just wasn’t sure what. He was certainly strange.

“Is it so badass when you only read it for your little brother?” Dean said, defeatedly, sighing as he grabbed his bag off the floor, rummaging until he found his old cassette player.

“Yeah, I think that’s pretty badass,” Castiel replied, turning a page in his book. His sister, Anna, had never really been nice to him, let alone read to him, It seemed strange that he was asking questions to get to know him, but even stranger that he was so defensive about answering those same questions.

That took Dean off-guard, and he looked down at the table, hints of red spreading across his cheeks, “Whatever you say.”

Castiel’s sister, Anna, sat with a group of her fellow cheerleaders. She was thin, with long red hair and blue eyes that weren’t nearly as bright as her brother’s. She’d been watching them for awhile and walked over. She scooted a chair close to Dean, nearly sitting on top of him.

“Honestly, I don’t know why you bother talking to him, Dean,” Anna smirked, “Can’t you see he’s busy _studying.”_

Dean smiled, “He looked like he could use a break.”

Dean couldn’t stand Anna, and he loathed himself when he was around the Novak siblings at the same time, because, while he tried to make things more amiable between the two of them- he never stopped her mistreatment of him. It was selfish to not stand up for him, even more-so because Anna was his only way to get closer to him. “It’s nice to take breaks, Castiel. After awhile of doing nothing but studying, your brain can’t retain anymore information- so it’s kinda pointless. See, I haven’t been _that_ bad of an influence,” he offered in condolence. It was a random fact that he’d retained from some lecture, somewhere.

He slid an arm around Anna, glad that Castiel was facing away. “How’s your day been, beautiful?” The words felt slimy, wrong. Most everyone thought Anna was beautiful- but, Dean saw her for what she was- a spoiled brat.

“Just awful. Mr. Smith failed my paper. That nerd Jeremy Hathaway was staring at me in math class. Worse, it looks like rain. What if practice ends up cancelled?” she pouted, pawing at Dean’s letterman jacket.

What Dean wouldn’t give for a certain nerd to be staring at him. “It’ll probably clear up.”

Dean tried not to sound too disappointed. He liked the rain. Besides, Coach Parsons wouldn’t cancel practice even if the field started to flood. He was determined to bring home a state championship this year, and there was a lot of work to be done before that was even a possibility, “Even if it does, the show must go on. They’ll probably cancel cheer practice if it rains though. You might have to cheer me on from inside.”

“Exactly! That would be terrible! I wouldn’t get to see you for a couple hours! And I’d be shut up in the library with Castiel!” She visibly cringed.

Castiel ignored his sister. He was used to her being...well...a complete bitch. He was a bit glad that she was distracting Dean, which meant that Dean wasn’t distracting him from his studies. He breathed a sigh of relief, turning a page in his book.

“Hey, Castiel- why don’t you come sit outside if it doesn’t rain? Change of scenery might be good for your studying. Can’t be fun to stay cooped up in the library ALL the time,” Dean offered. He wondered if Castiel would notice him then. He’d practice extra hard, run extra fast, “You could sit on the bleachers. Pretty quiet up there.”

“Sure, that might be nice,” Castiel said without turning around. _Whatever gets you to leave me alone._

“Why did you invite him?” Anna groaned.

Dean shrugged, “You won’t even notice him,” _But I will,_ “You’ll be too busy cheering in that sexy little outfit of yours, babe.” _Gag me, now._

 

* * *

 

 

The sky was grey and it was a bit windy, but so far no rain. Castiel sat on the third row of the bleachers, book open, taking notes. Anna cheered from the sidelines with her friends, keeping a close eye on Dean.

Dean hadn’t accounted for the fact that the whistle every few minutes probably deviated from what he’d told Castiel about ‘quiet’; but, he didn’t mind, because he was on his game today.

“Nice hustle out there, Winchester.”

“Thanks, sir,” Dean called.

Coach Parsons liked Dean a lot, because he showed him respect. What the coach didn’t know was that respect was second nature because if he treated dad with anything else, he’d have gotten his ass whipped.

“Alright, boys, back in formation! Green! Green! KEVIN! BACK IN FORMATION. There’s time for horseplay after practice.”

Dean found the words ironic, because their quarterback, Kevin Green, _was_ a horse. He was huge, easily taller than Dean, and nearly twice as wide.

Dean took his place a couple rows back, straightening his helmet, staring past Anna and looking at Castiel, who, as usual, wasn’t looking back. He began to wonder how two people could live together and be so different. He and Sam, though they liked different things, and looked different, even...at the core, weren’t different at all. They’d die for each other.

Dean felt the wind tearing over him as he caught the ball mid-air and found himself sprinting towards the end of the field so fast that no one was catching up.

Even the coach huffed and puffed eons behind Dean, following him to the end of the field. He hadn’t realized how fast he’d been running. He’d always been good at running. Running away, that is.

“Damn son, you’re on your game today- good play Winchester, Green. Touchdown! Keep playing like that and we’ll see state for sure this year.”

Anna was nearly bursting with pride. She jumped up in the air, doing the splits before her feet landed on the ground again. Castiel wasn’t paying attention. The wind had taken his notes away and he was trying to catch his papers.

Coach was in the middle of telling them how they could’ve made that play even better when Dean just tuned out. He was still clutching the football as he sprinted to the bleachers, grabbing up papers, chasing them down as fast as he could. He caught the last of them, bending down for it just as Castiel arrived upon the scene.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Castiel said, a bit winded, “I could have gotten them.”

_Why is he even helping me?_ Castiel wondered.

Dean looked up, handing the papers back to Castiel. _God, his eyes were so perfectly blue. No wonder the sky was grey._ He took his helmet off, his cheeks were red from the wind, but his eyes were wide, pupils dilated, “No...I mean, it’s no problem. Kinda my fault anyway, right?” _I just keep messing up with you._

“You can’t really control the wind, Dean. But thanks for the help.”

He took the papers back from Dean, shoving them in a folder.  

“Okay, well, I guess Winchester’s called it,” Coach hollered with a whistle, “Practice is over.”

Kevin howled, “All right, time to go to the park for a little after party if you know what I mean,” he looked over at the cheerleaders, “Everybody in?”

He was met with cheers. Dean was ignoring it, “Any time. I didn’t know it was going to be windy today- I just thought it might be nice to study outside. I’m sorry.”

“It’s-”

Anna came running up, “Come on Dean. You don't have to worry about him. I told you that you should have stayed in the library, Castiel. It's where you belong. Come on Dean, let’s go to the park.”

“I'm pretty sure I have everything. Thanks Dean. I'll get out of your way and let you get back to it.”

Dean smiled, still facing Castiel even though Anna was pulling him away, “Don't worry, if I see another paper, well,” it was subtle, but he winked.

“How chivalrous! Dean Winchester, the Savior of nerds.” Anna smiled.

Dean's smile faded, “I’ll be at the park in a little bit, babe, I need to pick up my brother from debate team over at the middle school. You should go ahead and take Cas home anyway, right?”

 

* * *

 

 

It was somewhat of a tradition to go to the park after the game, which, in most of their opinions was about all there was to do in Sioux Falls. Dean had stopped by the Gas ‘N Sip with Sammy on the way home and filled up Baby, dad’s car, as well as bought Sam some junk food to munch on while he waited.

He’d watched about fifteen minutes of bad TV with Sam, waiting on his best friend Amber to finish band practice and keep Sam company like she always did on Tuesdays. It had taken a little longer than he’d originally anticipated, which was fine, because while Dean had to show face, he didn’t particularly want to. He said goodbye to them both, and left.

By the time the ‘67 Impala turned into the parking lot of the park (which was little more than trails, and forest, save for the playground in the middle), disaster had struck once more.

There was a large group standing just off of the parking lot, as though there were a fight happening. Dean parked, and walked over, not really interested. That is, not until, “Come on Novak, go long, I’ll give you your stuff back if you catch the ball.”

Dean’s blood boiled instantly. Anna was supposed to have taken Castiel home, but, she apparently hadn’t, and now the group of popular kids- the sheep flock- stood around while the head dick of the football team, Kevin, held Castiel’s bag above his over-inflated head.

“Please, just give it back,” Castiel asked, “I won’t bother you anymore.”

“Yeah, Novak, go long,” one of the band kids said, “Ruined practice for everyone with that little stunt. So helpless you have to have Winchester catch your shit for you like you’re a girl. Well, guess we all knew that Winchester’s a f-”

“What am I?” It was dark. Dean had replaced his letterman jacket with a classic leather one, that made him look about as badass as his reputation allowed. There was silence.

“No, really, Jonathan, what am I? I’m curious.”

“Nothing, Dean.” The band geek shut up.

“Fucking pussy,” Kevin laughed, “What do you have to say, Winchester? You some big shot, kissing coach’s ass like you’re something?”

“Shut up, Kevin, leave Castiel alone. You have a problem with me, let’s go.”

“You think you’re hot shit, don’t you- with your fucking leather jacket and your smartass mouth.” The bull got in his face. Dean didn’t flinch.

“You think you’re hot shit because you’re big? Big don’t mean shit, Kevin, I could still kick your ass. Give him his stuff, now.”

“It’s okay, Dean,” Castiel said softly, “You really don’t have to bother. I’ve got it.”

There was no way that Castiel had it, even if he wanted to. Kevin was a problem. Dean had seen more than a few tough guys fall to Kevin’s aggression.

“Listen to your boyfriend, Winchester…he wants to play ball.”

Dean felt his heart stop at the word. Then everything went red. “Fuck you, Kevin.”

The crowd was completely silent. Dean was furious, not only at Kevin, but at Anna, who was in the sheep-group, watching this all happen from the sidelines, not saying a damn thing to protect her brother.

“You really want to play ball?” Dean grabbed the football right out of Kevin’s hand, before slamming it into his dick, causing him to topple over, “How many times has coach told you to wear your fucking cup?”

The action was met with hisses, and oooohs.

It was a low blow...but Dean didn’t even care. He caught Castiel’s book in his hand, _The Fellowship of the Ring_ , before picking up his bag. He handed both to Castiel while Kevin breathed heavy, holding his junk in front of the whole group.

“Come on,” he said to Castiel, glaring at anyone who would dare open their mouth, stopping and glaring at Anna a little longer.

Castiel blushed profusely, shoving the book back in his bag. His mind was racing. _Why is Dean so nice to me, instead of like the other football jerks? Why did he stand up for me in front of everyone? Why does he look so sexy in that leather jacket?_

“Thanks Dean,” Castiel muttered before his eyes widened.

The bull wasn’t out of the game just yet, and he looked more pissed than ever as he swung hard, hitting Dean in the back of the head.

“Fight, fight, fight,” the group chanted.

Castiel wasn’t even thinking as he grabbed his backpack, swinging as hard as he could at Kevin. It was enough to knock the wind out of him and make him stumble, but it still didn’t stop him. His face was mottled red in anger, contorting with rage.

Dean barely had the time to push Castiel behind him, out of the way, not enough time to stop himself from being knocked on the ass. But, he got up quickly, swinging his own fist full force behind his back, gathering as much inertia as he could before lunging forward and connecting it with Kevin’s face.

There was a snap.

There were whispers from the crowd. Who won? Had Dean broken Kevin’s nose, or had Kevin broken Dean’s hand?

The answer was clear the second Kevin’s nose began to gush blood. “You son of a bitch. Are you done, or do I need to send you home to your mother with a face even she couldn’t love?”

“At least I have a-”

Dean grabbed him up by his shirt. “What did you fucking say to me?” And it was dark, it was black inside his mind, and he couldn’t stop.

“I said you have a dead mommy, Winchester. Probably killed herself after you-”

Dean didn’t retort, there was just the sound of his knuckles cracking against Kevin’s face until it was bleeding, and Dean’s hand was bleeding.

The sight was nauseating. It went on longer than it should have, even after Dean had obviously won; but, none of the sheep were brave enough to stop him- even when they began to freak out.

Castiel nervously reached out, “Dean?”

That voice. It reached into his core, just as it always did. Castiel grabbed Dean’s arm. “Dean stop,” he muttered, “Just leave him alone. He’s not worth it.”

The words reminded him of Sam. Most of the fights that Dean found himself getting into, were for Sam. _It’s not worth it, Dean._

Castiel, much like his baby brother, made everything, including forgiveness, sound so easy. It wasn’t easy. Dean didn’t care if it was petty. He didn’t care if he had to defend his pride, his brother’s honor, or Castiel Novak’s honor- those _were_ all worth it to Dean. He was a piece of shit in every other way- he couldn’t stop the monsters that came after them, he couldn’t change mom’s death- but, he could protect the people he loved from being hurt. It was worth it. It was. No one should have the right.

But, like he did when Sammy told him ‘enough’, he stopped. “Let’s go.” The palm of his hand rest on Castiel’s shoulder as he pushed him gently away from the crowd, “You’re fucking pathetic, all of you.” It was a warning not to follow.

Dean’s hand fell from Castiel’s shoulder when he realized it was bleeding from throwing too many punches- they were walking on the forest path by then.

“I can take care of myself you know,” Castiel said, a bit defensively. He was used to being pushed around, teased, his ass kicked. What he wasn’t used to was someone saving his ass, someone to help him back up. The only other person who had ever done anything like that for him was his best friend, Balthazar. Still, it wasn’t something he was used to. He hated relying on anyone but himself.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” Dean said quietly, walking just a step or so in front of Castiel. And who was he to judge? Maybe somewhere inside of himself, Castiel could have handled the situation- Sam certainly could hold his own. He couldn’t help but think about what he would have done to anyone who had tried that shit on Sammy. He might have killed the fuckers.

“He’s a bully. And besides, even if you can handle yourself- it’s kind of my fault that all this even happened. It would have been kinda shitty for me to walk away. I’m not that kind of guy. It’s what friends do, right? I want to be your friend, Castiel.”

Castiel stopped dead in his tracks. _Why on earth would Dean Winchester want to be friends with me?_ He didn't have many friends, just Balthazar. He didn't like letting people in. That's how you ended up hurt. "Why?" He asked simply.

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t want to be your friend? Are you some kind of criminal, Castiel?” Dean teased, wiggling his bleeding fingers to assess the damage.

“You’re hurt because of me,” Castiel said, staring at his hand, “Some friend I am.”

“I’m hurt because Kevin’s a jackass. I’m pretty sure that’s not your fault. Besides, I’ve had worse.” Dean couldn’t help but wonder what Castiel had to hide from him. First, he paid no attention to him...Dean could understand that without having to like it- he was just some guy in a leather jacket from fuck knows where annoying this brilliant boy. But now, he was trying hard to push him away...he wouldn’t admit that; but, Dean had done enough pushing himself to recognize when someone had their guard up.

“It’s because of me. Because you were trying to help me,” Castiel said, pushing his glasses up, “I still don’t even know why you’d bother being friends with me. There’s no use dragging you down with me when you’re one of the lucky ones.”

_One of the lucky ones?_ How little Castiel knew about Dean Winchester became painfully obvious again, “I hate to say it, Cas,” there was the nickname again, “You don’t know me. Not yet. Get to know me before you decide it’s you who’s dragging me down, hm? But, you can’t just tell me you’re not worth my time or I’m not worth yours.” He stopped, sighing, “Look, I can take you home right now, if that’s what you want- and I can do it every day if it’s better than being around Anna...believe me, I get it. I can do that without even being your friend if it’s not worth your time. But I’d like to try. I mean, look, we’re already off on the right foot, we both like Tolkien.”

Castiel had to smile at that. Dean Winchester was certainly strange and if nothing else persistent. But, he was afraid. Afraid of letting anyone else in that might hurt him; but the more he thought about it, the more he realized you had to start trusting someone at some point.

“You really don’t give up do you?”

“D’you want me to give up? I mean, there’s only so much I can do. Ah, here we are.” They’d reached the clearing. Because it was getting dark, and it was already cloudy, the playground was empty- just a couple slides, a sandbox and a swing set.

“ Here, where?” Castiel asked.

Dean shrugged his backpack off. It was interesting to think that ten minutes ago, this was the same boy that was beating the life out of someone for insulting his mother. Now, he was sprinting towards the swings, almost like a child, “Are you coming?” he called.

Castiel took his backpack off too, and ran full speed to the swings. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this good. He felt just like a kid again, sitting on the swing and kicking off.

“I haven’t done this in years,” Castiel laughed.

Dean stepped behind him, pushing him as he swung higher and higher, “Really? We should do it again sometime, then.” _I’ve never heard you laugh._ “I was serious, y’know, about taking you home. My brother’s in middle school. I usually pick him up, but middle school gets out a couple hours later. I usually just wait in the car. I don’t think waiting in the library would be much different. I wouldn’t mind giving you a ride after, even before.” _God. That came out ridiculously desperate._

Castiel hated catching a ride with Anna. She was always such a bitch and she always treated him like shit. It would be nice to be able to get some extra time in the library on days Anna didn’t have practice.

“Are you sure that you don’t mind?”

“Nope,” Dean said, almost against Castiel’s ear as he swung back. He pushed Castiel higher, even when it started to sprinkle, and thunder sounded in the distance.

A cold chill went up Castiel’s spine that had nothing to do with the weather. He could still feel Dean’s breath on his ear.

“Really? I mean if it’s too much trouble don’t worry about it. I can give you some gas money too if you want.”

“Nah, really, it’s fine. I think I’ll feel better knowing that those guys aren’t giving you trouble. Anyway- what else do you like to do? Don’t say studying,” Dean teased, “I mean actually like.”

“I like watching t.v, playing video games, and playing board games. Pretty much the usual. How about you?”

“You’d get along with my little brother pretty well, y’know.” That made Dean happy. Sam was judge, jury and executioner when it came to anything. “I like music, good movies...I’m pretty boring.” _Boys. I like boys._

“What kind of music do you like?”

“Hm,” Dean smiled, “Let’s play a game. What kind of music do you think I like?”

“Hmm…..rock and roll all the way.”

Dean clapped, “I’m impressed. Led Zeppelin, Van Halen, AC/DC. You...hm.” He found himself actually having to think, “The stuff they play on the radio today? Like, I dunno, pop or soft rock- something like that?”

“Yeah. I like N*sync, Backstreet Boys, and Britney Spears. Wow, I really wish I hadn’t said that out loud. My turn? Your favorite movie is...Fight Club.”

Dean laughed, “Why? Cause I kicked that guy’s ass? I told you, I don’t fight unless I have to. No,” he said a bit more seriously, “I haven’t actually seen it. Untouchables is probably my favorite movie ever. I like Clint Eastwood a lot too, and I’m a sucker for the classics. Oh, and Braveheart.  You.” Dean stopped, he actually had to think… “Uh...I don’t know,” he was smiling, “Edward Scissorhands? Forrest Gump?”

“I like both of those movies, but it’s actually Ever After. ‘I could no sooner pick a favorite star in all the heavens,’” Castiel quoted, “I also like Silence of the Lambs and The Green Mile. I’m a huge movie buff. Your question.”

“Maybe you are a criminal. Silence of the Lambs was pretty fucked up, Cas. Good movie, though. I’ve never heard of Ever After.” Probably because Dean rarely, if ever, watched chick flicks. The more he learned about Castiel, the more he thought that just maybe he liked boys, too. That he had a chance. Well, then, even if he was….gay...Dean definitely wasn’t that ‘pretty boy’ type like in the boy bands. He was, well...trouble.

“Your favorite food. Hm…is…” the sprinkling of rain began to pick up into heavy droplets, “Actually, pass...are you hungry?” He grabbed the chains on the swing, slowing Castiel down to a stop.

“You could just drop me off at home. My mom probably made dinner already. It’s fine, Dean.”

“Come on,” Dean said, even as they were getting soaked, “Anna’s over at a friend’s until later, I know, she told me. Shouldn’t hurt you to do the same. Unless you’re sick of me already.” Dean whipped off his leather jacket, picking up Castiel’s bookbag and wrapping the jacket around it, shielding it from the rain, and carrying it. The rain picked up, and Dean’s white v-neck was soaked within minutes, the cotton clinging uncomfortably to his skin, showing a bit more of it than he would have liked.

“Dean you’re getting soaked!” Castiel called, over a roar of thunder, “My books aren’t worth your pneumonia!”

_They’re worth a lot to you._ “I’ll be fine. Come on, let’s get out of the rain.” Dean began running towards the car, looking back to make sure Castiel was behind him.

Before Cas had completely caught up to Dean, he heard him yell, “SON OF A BITCH!”

It looked like the sheep flock had fun with the Impala. There were key scratches on the hood, a large dent in the driver door, and a couple cracks in the windshield.

Even as he ran a hand through his soaking hair, aghast at his dad’s car’s condition, he managed to walk to the passenger side, opening the door for Castiel. “...shit.”

“Dean I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! This is all my fault! You should never have helped me! Your dad’s going to kill you because of me! I should talk to him, tell him it’s my fault. I’ll pay for the damages. I swear.”

“Cas, get in the car,” Dean said. “My dad isn’t going to know about this. I’ll fix it before he gets back.” He pictured John Winchester towering over Castiel, and then imagined the look on his face if he saw Baby. “You don’t need to pay for anything. It’s not your fault. I’ll just skip tomorrow and work on it. Dad’s not due back for awhile. It’s fine. It’s gonna be fine. Just get in the car.” _As long as dad doesn’t come home early from the hunt, he’s never going to know, and it’ll be fine. Amber’s mom has the spare parts, probably, anyway. Still. Fuck. I’m gonna kill those sons of bitches._

“But what about your classes?” Castiel said, climbing into the car.

“I told you earlier. School doesn’t matter.” Dean turned the key in the ignition, and Baby started up with a purr. Good. No internal damage. _Bohemian Rhapsody_ began to blare, before Dean turned down the volume.

Castiel smiled a bit, “You really do like the oldies, huh?”

Dean blushed, a faint red spreading over his nose and cheeks, cause, well, there wasn’t anything gayer than Queen. “Not my usual. This is just one of my mix tapes. Like the song.” _I don’t want to die. I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all._ That clenching that came in his chest with those lyrics, every time.

“I like it. It’s Oldies but goodies. My favorite queen song is probably _The Show Must Go On_ or _Somebody to Love_. I like the real Oldies.”

_I could find you somebody to love._ God, these thoughts were getting out of control. “Like, doo-wop?” Dean didn’t mind the oldies. He remembered his mom listening to them when he was small. The love for music developed then, when he found out that the music was the only thing he could hold on to, one of few things that remained.

The car pulled out of the parking lot, and he turned left, away from the residential areas.

“Like Frank Sinatra, Elvis Presley, that kind of stuff. I like _Luck Be a Lady_ and _Can’t Help Falling in Love_.”

Dean liked Elvis, too, that song in particular. He didn’t know much Sinatra. “You’re kinda like a classic yourself. I...I mean...different...than the idiots at school.” _God Dean, just shut up now._

Castiel was quiet for a few moments.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I really am sorry about your car.”

“It’s my dad’s car. It’s fixable. Do you like burgers?” He changed the subject, still embarrassed that he’d said something so careless.

“Yeah I do,” he nodded, “You?”

“They’re probably one of my favorite things in the world. That’s where I’m taking you.”

“Well three guesses what your favorite food is,” Castiel smiled.

“Not burgers, surprisingly. They run a close second,” Dean laughed, taking a curve a little fast, “So you’re down to two.”

“Hmm…steak?”

“Nope. You look like you probably like steak though, with buttered potatoes, and salad,” he teased.

“I do, but it’s not my favorite. So, that’s two left for you. Let’s see….tacos?”

“Nope. My favorite food is pie.” His stomach growled just thinking about it, “Yours is...pizza?”

“Nope. Try again. And does pie really count as food?” he teased.

“Hell yes it does. French fries?” Now all he wanted was a burger, and fries, and a milkshake, and pie.

“Nope, my favorite food is my mom’s spaghetti. So it’s my question right? Do you have any pets?””

“Does my little brother count?”

“He can’t be that bad,” Castiel offered.

“Nah, he’s actually not. He’s a good kid. He’s smart as hell, and probably the best little brother I could ask for. Wouldn’t trade him for anything. But to answer your question, no. My dad used to move us around a lot. I guess it’s cause of that dad wouldn’t get Sammy a dog or something. You? Fish? Cats?”

“Both actually. Well, the cat was supposed to be Anna’s but she never took care of it, so she’s kind of mine now.”

“What’s her name?”

Dean pulled into a diner, which was on the very outskirts of town, kind of far off from everything. It looked like an old fifties diner, complete with checkered tile, a counter you could watch the cooks fry burgers from, spinning red chairs, large windows, and a jukebox. The place wasn’t incredibly busy, which was to be expected on a Tuesday night in Sioux Falls.

“Persian,” he replied, stepping out of the car, “Your question next.”

“Like the Pokemon?” Dean couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yes, like the Pokemon,” Castiel replied, turning red in the face, “Wait, do you watch Pokemon or play the game?”

“My brother watches Pokemon,” he admitted, “You two would get along.” He opened the door to the diner.

They were greeted by a waitress wearing the nametag ‘Connie’, who didn’t start by asking them how many or ‘table or booth’...she grabbed Dean (soaking wet and all), up into her arms, squeezing him tightly, “Hey sweetie, haven’t seen you around here in awhile. Keep an old lady waiting. How’s your dad?”

The lady had blonde hair, curly from remnants of an old perm, that was starting to gray. She was average build, and wrinkles were around her eyes and mouth...she was easily in her forties or fifties.

“Hey Connie, dad’s fine, just out of town again, hunting. This is my friend, Castiel. He’s never been here before.”

“Course not, I think I’d remember eyes like those. Aren’t you handsome? Come on, you two, lets get you sat down. I’ll bring you both a towel.”

Connie led them to a booth in the corner, overlooking the highway, and near the jukebox...the perfect table for both listening to music, and people-watching. It was Dean’s normal table. Connie was a sweet lady that had seen his dad on and off since they’d arrived in Sioux Falls. She was nice. Treated both Dean and Sam like they could be her relatives.

Sometimes, especially now as she eyed Castiel up and down, Dean couldn’t help wondering if she knew what he was. “Is it gonna be the usual, sweetheart?”

“I’ll wait till he decides.”

“Okay, I’m going to get you boys those towels. Here’s a menu, sugar.” She handed Castiel one of the menus.

“She’s very nice. Is she like your Aunt or something, old family friend?” Castiel asked.

“She’s my dad’s friend. Well, _friend_. She is really nice, and this place has the best burgers and milkshakes in Sioux Falls. Seriously though- you have to try the milkshakes.” He turned it into their game again, “Strawberry?”

“Close. I like side by side milkshakes, strawberry and chocolate. You like chocolate,” Castiel said, confidently.

“I do like chocolate. But it’s not my favorite. This one’s a low blow on my dignity, but I guess it goes to show I’m more of a classics guy. Vanilla.” He smiled.

Connie came back with a handful of large dishtowels, “I hear something about milkshakes over here?” She smiled.

“Yeah, Castiel wants a side-by-side strawberry and chocolate. Actually, y’know, I’ll try one too.”

“Dean Winchester, changing up his order. Well, you must be special, Castiel. I’ve been making this one milkshakes since he moved here--always vanilla. With french fries. Weirdo,” she teased, “Just like your dad.”

Dean blushed. Did she think that Castiel was his boyfriend? What gave with comments like that. “Hey, french fries and milkshakes are the best.”

“All right, all right, well, at least that much has stayed the same. I’ll bring them out soon.”

“Thanks, Connie,” Dean said with a smile, taking a dish towel to his dripping hair.

Castiel finally caught a good look at Dean in the fluorescent lights. The white shirt clung to his skin, hair wet, freckles on his cheeks. It was no wonder Dean Winchester had so much influence over anyone and everything. He was beautiful, but more than that, he had one of those electric personalities that just radiated wherever he went.

The more he learned about Dean the more of an enigma he became. He was more than just some annoying guy, pestering him while he studied. He wanted to be his friend. He defended him while his own sister watched and mocked along with the crowd. He was the type of guy who rocked out to Queen, wore leather jackets, took care of his little brother, and saved bookbags from the rain. An enigma if there ever was one.

Dean’s blush deepened when he caught Castiel staring at him. He didn’t want to say anything, didn’t want to break this moment where maybe there was something there- delusion or not, “D’you see anything you like?” He asked after a moment.

_Oh God, I’m staring at him. Is he talking about himself or the menu? Surely the menu. What do I like? Everything. But, I already have a milkshake coming and I don’t have that much money on me right now, because I wasn’t planning on going anywhere._ “I’m not that hungry,” Castiel lied, “I think I’ll just stick with the milkshake and an order of fries.”

“You’re a bad liar,” Dean noted, “I have money. Dad left more than enough for me and Sam to get by, and I do some work for my uncle sometimes and he pays me. You have to try something. What? You think I’m gonna take you somewhere and make you pay?” he laughed.

“I have money,” Castiel insisted, “It’s just not very much. I left most of it at the house. Anna doesn’t usually  take me anywhere. I can pay you back when you drop me off at the house.”

“Don’t worry about it. Breathe, Cas,” Dean smiled, “I told you, it’s on me. Whatever you want.”

“No use fighting with a Winchester, honey, they’re stubborn. Ask him what he gets,” Connie interrupted, as she poured more coffee for the gentleman in front of them.

“What _do_ you get?” Castiel asked, as he cocked his head to the side, curious.

Dean leaned over, much like he usually did when he was craning over his table to annoy Castiel in the morning. He pointed at the picture of the biggest burger on the entire thing. It was two pounds of hamburger, three different kinds of cheese, bacon, and all the fixings. Underneath was labeled “Babe Ruth”- all of the burgers were named after some sort of icon.

“Don’t ask me where he fits it, darlin’, I don’t know.” Connie laughed, walking off.

“I don’t know if I’d be able to finish all that,” Castiel smiled, “But I’ll give it a try. I haven’t had a good burger in a while and .you say they’re the best. I’ll give it a shot.”

Dean looked taken aback. It looked almost as if he was starting to say something; but Connie had returned with two milkshakes, in actual glasses, with those striped bendy-straws, and a spoon, along with a good sized plate of french fries.

Dean grabbed one and immediately dipped it into his milkshake before taking a bite. His head fell back in bliss. “So good…” he said with his mouth still full.

“Did you decide what you want honey?” She smiled at Castiel. Dean sat up and she laughed, “I know what _you_ want.”

“I’ll have the same,” Castiel answered, before dipping a fry in the chocolate side of his shake and eating it.

She smiled at them, “Alright honey, I’ll get that in for you both. Dean, sweetheart, go wash up in the bathroom, are you going to have Alicia take care of your hand?”

Dean nodded, “I’d actually forgotten about it. Don’t run away,” he said to Cas, “I’ll be right back.”

As he got up, Connie followed him, her going towards the kitchen and him towards the unisex bathroom. “I’m happy for you, honey. He seems like a sweetheart.”

Dean’s eyes widened. He stopped in his steps, “I...he’s not...we’re not...I’m not,” he stumbled and stuttered.

“Dean,” Connie said, and that look was the worst, the pity look. She didn’t know what to say. “I’ll get this order in. If I’m wrong, I’m sorry,” she whispered, “But if I’m not...it’s okay, honey, it really is.”

Dean couldn’t shut the door to the bathroom quick enough, soaping up his hands, and scrubbing the dried blood off. Amber’s mom, Alicia, wouldn’t have to stitch him up, he’d be fine. His head had a bump on it, but he was pretty hard headed, anyway.

He stopped and stared at himself in the mirror, unable to come to grips with the fact that someone knew. How could she know? Sam and Amber wouldn’t have said anything...and no one...NO ONE else knew. His heart was pounding out of his chest so much that it began to hurt.

It was a few more minutes before Dean got back to the table, “Sorry, oh, wow, milkshake’s already half gone. That good?”

It was good, but mostly he was just nervous sitting by himself and didn’t have much else to do. “Yeah,” Castiel smiled, “It’s pretty good.”

“I thought I was the only one who liked dipping the fries in the shake,” he smiled, noticing some of the fries were gone, too, “Everyone else thinks it’s disgusting.” He looked at Castiel for a moment, “Your favorite color is orange?” he asked.

“I like yellow. Yours is red.”

“Blue,” he answered almost too quickly. It was damn near impossible to see the color of blue in Castiel’s eyes and not appreciate it for easily the most beautiful color. “Your turn.”

“Your favorite drink is vanilla milkshakes.”

“True enough,” he answered. He didn’t really have a favorite drink...though, he liked to drink with dad...something made him not say that to Castiel. It wasn’t really that he’d ever even been ashamed of it, not until now, “Root beer floats?”

“Those are good, but my favorite is coke. Your turn.,” Castiel replied, dipping another fry in his milkshake.

“Your favorite subject is English.”

“You’re right. I also really like cooking class, history, and math. I guess I kind of like them all. Your favorite class is...gym?”

Dean smiled, “History.” It sounded cliché, as it was the first class they'd had together; however, Dean had always found history interesting… It applied more often than not to hunting. In school, Dean could easily pass history, without trying. Still, it was another lie, he was ashamed to admit. He was in the culinary course as well, and he loved it. It made him relax, and he'd never really fucked anything up. “Your turn.”

“Your...favorite game...is...the racing game at the arcade.”

“I’d rather race the real thing,” he smiled, “If you ever meet my dad, just don’t tell him I said that. Still, they’re kinda fun. I don’t actually play many games. Your favorite…hm….you like board games, don’t you?”

Connie returned before Castiel could answer, with burgers that took up an entire plate, fixings falling off, another plate of fries for Castiel’s burger. “I think you boys are going to need bigger mouths.”

Dean blushed again. He didn’t want to have inappropriate thoughts in the diner, _with_ Cas….lips full, slightly parted. _God dammit._

“Did you say something, sweetheart?”

“Wha...oh, no...thank you Connie, it looks amazing.”

“It does, thank you Connie,” Castiel agreed, as she walked over to another table, he added, “And thanks to you too Dean, for paying I mean.”

“Any time, Cas,” Dean said, taking a bite. He chewed slowly, and when he swallowed, he added, “Really. Here,” Dean went to the counter and ‘borrowed’ a pen, and took out a napkin, writing a phone number down, “If you need anything...a ride, someone to talk to, hell, a burger- just call.”

“Oh here,”Castiel replied, writing his number down as well and handing it to Dean, “Same goes for you. Well, my mom doesn’t like calls past nine.”

Dean’s heart fluttered, and began pounding again. He felt like he was in some sort of chick flick again, “Well, you can call any time. I mean it, any time. My dad...he’s really never home, and if he is, he sleeps through damn near anything.” He took the number, carefully folding the napkin and pocketing it. He’d had it already, of course...Anna had given him her number on his third day of school...but he thought he definitely preferred it in Castiel’s messy handwriting.

“It’a Super Mario All Stars, by the way. My favorite game. Your question.”

They finished their meal talking about school, and playing their guessing game. Dean paid the bill, they got in the beaten up Impala. He’d even turned on the radio as they drove along, settling on an oldies station that he and Cas could both listen to.

Castiel lived in a quiet, residential area, full of look-a-like houses, and cul-de-sacs, picket fences, nice cars...middle class at it’s finest. Dean turned into the driveway, having known the location from the few dates he’d gone on with Anna. The porch light was on, and who could only be Castiel’s mom was sitting on the porch, on an old swing. She stood up as the car pulled in the drive.

“Oh no. This can’t be happening,” Castiel said under his breath. He’d been so wrapped up in everything that he’d forgotten to call his mom and tell her where he was and when he’d be home and who he was with and any other of the five hundred questions she normally asked.

She actually walked down the driveway. Mrs. Novak had red hair, curled up into a bun, but the same kind features as her son. She was the image of a mother, Dean thought.

She stood outside the car until Castiel got out, Dean following, grabbing his backpack, and the leftovers from the diner. She looked expectant of an answer, but got one from Dean instead of Cas.

“Hello, Mrs. Novak,” Dean extended his hand, and she shook it, “I’m Dean Winchester, Castiel’s friend. I’m sorry for getting him back so late, I lost track of the time.”

She looked impressed with him, his stance, his politeness, and his honesty.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dean. Thank you for bringing Castiel home.” She turned to Castiel, her tone getting just a touch more stern, “It’s not curfew yet, but you had me worried. I told you to call if anything came up. Usually it’s Anna that I have to worry about.”

“It’s really my fault, ma’am...I was kind of insistent.”

“I know mom, I should have used the payphone outside the diner to call, but I just forgot. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“Castiel, did you have money to eat?” Mrs. Novak frowned.

“It’s fine ma’am, really,” Dean said, “I offered. I should really head back home though. My little brother’s probably getting himself into something. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning, alright, Castiel?” Dean asked. Before waiting for an answer, he added, “It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Novak.”

“Thanks again, Dean. For everything. I really appreciate it,” Castiel smiled, “I’ll be ready in the morning.”

Mrs. Novak looked a bit confused, probably because Anna was supposed to give Castiel a ride. Dean presumed that she and Castiel would talk about it later- he didn’t want to intrude too much- he’d already pushed his limits.

He handed Castiel his bag, and his leftovers, taking the leather jacket back, and putting it on again, “See you then.” He smiled, opening the door to the Impala and getting inside.

“It was nice to meet you too, Dean.” Mrs. Novak waved as Dean nodded, shutting the door, and shoving a cassette into the player as the engine started. _Simple Man_ could be heard playing well past the time the Impala pulled out of the drive.

As Castiel waved, he said again, “I really am sorry mom.”

“It’s okay,” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder, “Just call next time. It’s nice that you went out with someone other than Balthazar. Not that I don’t like him, but, I haven’t seen you around anyone else in such a long time.” She began leading him up the steps to the house, “He seems nice. I have a good feeling about him.”

Castiel had a good feeling too. He walked upstairs and closed the door to his room. He sat his backpack next to the desk and sat down. He opened the bottom drawer and under a few binders and books he pulled out a yellow notebook. Castiel flipped to a clean page.

 

_September 28, 1998_

 

_Today was an interesting day. That boy that sits behind me and pesters me in study hall actually turned out to be pretty awesome. Kevin and the rest were making fun of me again, and he stepped into help. Which was great because I just really couldn’t stand having my ass beat again. He said he wants to be my friend, which naturally makes me suspicious. I mean why would someone as cool as Dean Winchester want to be friends with me? But he was pretty persistant and he seems genuine. He took me to this pretty amazing diner where we had these huge burgers and fries and also milkshakes. He likes dipping his fries in his shakes just like I do._ _Kevin and the others messed up Dean’s car. It’s because he saved me. I don’t want him getting hurt because of me. I don’t think I have much to worry about.. Dean can handle himself. He totally kicked Kevin’s ass today. It’s nice having a new friend. I think for the first time in a long time things are starting to look up._

* * *

 

 

Dean pulled in the driveway. He lived on the other side of town from Castiel, on the outskirts. He parked in the gravel. The street light next to their trailer was on, and Dean could hear the TV blaring as soon as he got out of the car. Not that the neighbors cared...they mostly kept to themselves- and Amber’s mom could sleep through just about anything across the street. He pulled the tarp over the Impala. He didn’t need to get hell from whoever saw it. He’d take care of it tomorrow, after he dropped Castiel off, and Amber and Sam were gone.

He walked up the steps, opening the door to the trailer, and bypassing Sam and Amber, who were watching stupid Tuesday night TV, going straight to his room, almost glad they were distracted, not causing a fuss about his injuries. He took Castiel’s number out of his pocket, and carefully placed it on the nightstand next to his bed.

They’d had a date. Okay, well, it wasn’t really a date, not at all. But, Dean couldn’t stop running over the facts he’d learned in his head. _He likes side-by-side milkshakes, and swinging in the park. He likes pop music and wants to be a nurse. And he’s going to let me pick him up and drop him off._ It was entirely worth the cracks on his knuckles, and the bump on his head.

He tossed his football bag on the floor, letting the helmet fall with it. He tugged his shirt and pants off and tossed them in the pile of dirty clothes that was slowly becoming a mountain in front of his closet. He slipped underneath the covers, smiling as he reached over and grabbed the cassette player from his nightstand, adjusting the foam covering of the headphones as they draped over his ears. The entire thing was old and falling apart, from the cassette, to the player, to the headphones, so the music cracked- but it lulled Dean to sleep every night. Led Zeppelin began to wail away in his ears as he nested himself into his blankets.

This wasn’t his favorite Zeppelin album, he noticed with a frown, before remembering why he’d chosen this tape the night before. For that song. That song that was the goddamned Shakespeare of classic rock.

_If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you._

_When mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me._

 

Dad hated the song, and the cassette, part of why it was in Dean’s room instead of in the Impala. Dean supposed that it probably reminded John Winchester of his mother, and that it was too painful. John would never show that pain, choosing instead to take it out on the things that went bump in the night, followed by coming home and drowning it in alcohol.

He and John had the talk when he wasn’t even old enough to think about feelings- about how there was no room for them- how a hunter’s life was solitary- and a little fun’s okay- but not to get attached. _We’re drifters, Dean. Just passin’ through._

Then why had they stayed here so long? Why did dad buy this trailer and enroll Sammy in that special middle school? Why Sioux Falls, where Uncle Bobby was close? Why had the O’Connors bought a house right across the street? Why were they settling? It was cruel to do this. It was cruel to make him go to high school and pretend to be normal, then go on hunts on the weekends. It was agony to wait for the uprooting.

Dean ripped the headphones off, sitting upright in bed and running his fingers through his hair. It was stupid that he’d let it go this far- what had he been thinking? It was only a matter of time- and milkshakes and burgers would be another memory, both beautiful and painful. Letting Castiel Novak in was a mistake because the home that Dean Winchester had built for him in his heart was only temporary. Everything was temporary. It was like he was fighting a war, every day, to keep holding onto something- something that was his, something that couldn’t be taken away by this damn life that he hadn’t chosen. The war was impossible. The battle was impossible. Because of what he was. Because of who he was. He was a hunter. He was a Winchester. He was a legacy.

But there was more to him than that. There was more that no one saw. No one ever bothered asking what he wanted....dad just handed him a shotgun, and a backpack full of necessities full of the family business. His grades didn’t matter, because he’d never be anything other than dad’s prodigy. He liked hunting. But he didn’t want to live it.

He liked vanilla milkshakes, he liked classic rock and wanted to go see a concert, he wanted a home, he wanted to have an answer when the teachers asked ‘what do you want to be when you grow up?’ He wanted him and Sammy to live close to each other, Sammy with a dog and a nice girl.

That wasn’t all of who he was. He was curious, and good at more than one thing. He wasn’t as dumb as he looked. He was falling in love with Castiel Novak, and the last thing that Dean wanted anyone to ever know was that he was g-...

No, he wouldn’t say the word. He wouldn’t get comfortable and start to believe that he could be happy. Not again. Never again.

The last time he’d gotten comfortable. Dad had just uprooted them overnight. It was the only other time he’d ever fallen in love.  

He opened his drawer, picking up a bottlecap from the inside, and running his fingers over the grooves and ridges. _._

_Her name was Lexy and she had short blonde hair just past her chin and hazel eyes. She was his first girlfriend, and they were the talk of the school, and not in the good Spring Fling King and Queen way. This was the way where Lexy had gotten her claws into Dean Winchester and blew him behind the bleachers, fucked him in the bathrooms. Those rumors were going around before it happened...but it_ had _happened._

_They weren’t completely monogamous, a girl like Lexy never could be, and Dean didn’t want to change her. So, he tried not to mind if she was making out with another boy under the bleachers, while Dean had a football game, and Lexy encouraged him to have threesomes with her friends. She was what Dad always referred to as “Trailer Park Trash”._

_Dean was a bit nervous when she invited him to his first sleepover. Not for the same reasons most kids were scared of their first sleepovers, but because he’d already had sex with half of Lexy’s friends and he wondered if this was her attempt at some sort of orgy. He didn’t want to fuck in front of all these people._

_Dean put his new headphones over his ears, Van Halen playing. He lowered the headphones onto his shoulders, where he could still hear the music. He’d yet to spin, yet to be landed on. Everyone was too busy acting like they were small children, ‘ooh’ing and ‘aww’ing as different people kissed._

_“Okay, it’s your turn to spin, Cameron.”_

_Cameron was very plain looking, with dull green eyes and black hair. He looked terrified. He was one of the nerds in class and had surely been invited as Lexy’s idea of a cruel joke. Either that, or because everyone in the school said he was gay and she thought it’d be funny to have him kiss a boy at her party. More likely the latter._

_“That’s ok,” Cameron whispered._

_“You scared?” teased one of the girls._

_“It’s just a kiss,” said another._

_Cameron flushed and spun the bottle. Ever so slowly, the bottle stopped. A hush fell over the crowd as it landed on Dean Winchester._

_Dean hadn’t been paying attention to anything other than Eddie Van Halen’s guitar blaring. It took him a minute to realize that everyone was staring at him. He looked up at the boy who had spun, and the boy avoided eye contact.  “No way in hell.”_

_“Come on,” Lexy teased, “Or I’ll shove you in the closet for Seven Minutes in Heaven.”_

_She winked._

_“Come on Lexy, let him spin again. It’s against the rules- boys land on girls, girls land on boys. That’s dumb. Didn’t even want to play this game to begin with.” He put the headphones over his ears, not allowing for the answer._

_“Who cares about rules?”_

_She grabbed him up by the elbow, to his protests of ‘hey- stop-’ and shoved him into the closet, grabbing Cameron and shoving him in too._

_“Have fun boys, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Maybe I’ll leave you in Heaven for ten minutes.”_

_She closed the door, latching it behind her...one of those slide locks that only opened from the outside. Being trapped made Dean feel claustrophobic. He didn’t like it. Being trapped for him was usually the result of some monster trying to kill him_

_“Some girlfriend you have there,” Cameron said softly._

_Dean shook himself back to reality, “Yeah. Sorry about that,” Dean wormed his way past some tennis racquets and miscellaneous crap to sit on some boxes at the far end of the closet. “Dean, by the way. Might as well make yourself comfortable. Probably won’t be getting out for awhile.”_

_“Cameron,” he replied, taking a seat on the floor beside Dean, “I’m sorry you have to be stuck in here with me.”_

_Dean shrugged. Lexy would eventually let them out. She couldn’t honestly think that Dean would kiss a boy. “So, what are you doing here?” He realized that must’ve come off as a bad choice of words, “I mean, not that you…” he paused. “You’re just usually studying in class. I didn’t even know your name. Why would you come here? I mean, this isn’t exactly your crowd, right? Unless you have a crush on Lexy?” Dean smiled, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna be bothered if you do. Most people do.”_

_“People like me  don’t usually get invited to these sorts of things. I figured it was probably just a joke, but it's better than doing nothing. Right?”_

_“That’s pretty brave,” Dean said, admirably, “You’re probably better off away from things like this. I mean, you’re pretty smart, right? You’ll end up with a hell of a lot more than anyone else here has to offer, me included.”_

_“You’ve gotta have fun sometimes, ya know? Besides, it’s better than being stuck in here with some girl. They really get into the whole thing, and they’re not exactly my type.”_

_“Oh.” He said, dumbly, blushing, “So I guess you didn’t mind. You don’t think that’s weird? Kissing guys?” He’d never seen it. Never witnessed two boys so much as holding hands. It was so taboo._

_“No, I don’t. I kinda like it. Really like it.”_

_Dean found himself speechless, “I’m not...I mean…” This got awkward really fast. “I mean, I don’t have a problem that you are. Just. I’m not.”_

_“No. I know. There’s really not that many guys like me. I just mean I like it. A lot of guys I’ve been with don’t really know they like it until they try it.”_

_“That’s gotta be hard...I mean…” his face flushed crimson, “Not hard like...well I mean, if you like guys, then, like that too...I guess. I mean...not having anyone else...like that...around…”_

_“It’s ok. You don’t have to worry about offending me or anything. Most people don’t even care about me. But yeah….it’s hard. Sometimes like that way too,” he winked._

_Dean tried to nervously laugh, but found that his mouth was too dry.  “D’you wanna listen-” he choked out a bit, unsure of how to react to a guy winking at him, as he offered Cameron his headphones._

_“How’s the kissing going in there, you two? Cameron, you’ve never been with a boy like Dean, have you? He’s really good with his tongue, just ask him.” Lexy and a few of the other girls giggled behind the closed door, “We’re running down to the gas n’ sip for cokes- I’ll grab you guys some too and let you out when we get back. Bye now.” More giggling._

_“Lexy- c’mon, let us out.” Dean pounded against the door._

_“Doesn’t sound like very much kissing is going on Dean, be good, sweetheart. You know I like it when you’re a good boy.”_

_Dean’s head fell back against some musty, old coats. He wanted to say he was sorry to Cameron, but he was too embarrassed- just continued holding out his headphones._

_“Sure,” he smiled, “Better than do nothing.” He paused for a moment, “You know you’re pretty nice. Any time I’ve seen you in class I thought you might kick my ass or something if you saw me outside of school.”_

_“I’m not really that type of guy,” Dean shrugged, “I only fight people who deserve it or pick on my little brother. Some hero I am. Ooh, listen to the riff here…” he literally stopped talking to listen to listen to Van Halen’s ‘Jump’ riffs, appreciating them like the music was his blood, pumping through his veins._

_Dean had clearly taken Cameron by surprise, his eyes widening, “Just the kind that listens to classic rock in closets with boys like me.”_

_That made Dean smile, as well, “Nothing beats the classics. Besides, it was you who got us stuck in the closet, remember?”_

_“Not complaining. I’ve had worse company. I could have been stuck in here with some girl trying to make out with me.” he shuddered._

_“I’m really not all too quick on how these sleepovers work, to be honest.So, what should we tell them?” Dean asked. He knew Lexy, she’d want details, like some fucked up story, “When they come back?” Dean slid off the boxes, putting himself at eye level with Cameron._

_“Whatever you want to tell them, I guess,” he shrugged, “Not really sure how these sleepover things work either.”_

_“Well, sorry you’re not stuck in a closet with the guy of your dreams,” he said, nudging Cameron with his shoulder. As he bounced back, he realized that Cameron was soft, like a girl...not hard and stiff like the guys on the football team. Weird._

_“I don’t know. You’re pretty cute,” he smiled._

_Dean blinked a couple times, blushing. What was he supposed to say when a guy called him cute? When girls did- he could decide whether to back off, or take it further fairly easily. But with this boy calling him cute, he didn’t know how to begin to react. “Nah, it’s the leather jacket,” he teased, “Makes me look better than I do.” He fidgeted, “How did you find out you like boys?” He blurted, “I don’t mean to be a dick, I’m just curious.” He was. He’d never even thought of it as a possibility._

_“I just knew. I mean how did you discover you liked girls?” he laughed._

_“I dunno. I guess, because...that’s how…” he had to think, “That’s how I was raised. I never really thought of anything else. You’re the first person I’ve met that’s liked other guys. It’s all just a game anyway.” Most of the time it felt better when he was alone, touching himself in the dark- when he could get alone time. Sex was overrated, and messy. It seemed like a show- who fucked who, who sucked who. It wasn’t like he was going to get to spend his life with someone anyway, so he was perfectly content taking care of himself and sparing both messes- the sex and the heartbreak._

_“Is it really just a game? I’ve always thought it was something more.”_

I can’t afford to think like that, _Dean thought. “Isn’t it?” he asked, “Who’s fucking who, and the drama that follows. If you fuck this person, you’re popular. If you fuck another person, it destroys you. It’s not about feeling good- if it was, then, you could just take care of yourself- I mean it’s the same thing.”_

_“Whoa, wait a minute. Obviously you haven’t been with the right person yet, because sex is way different than masturbation,” Cameron said with a smile._

_Dean flushed. It really was basically all the same. “I’ve been with enough people,” he said, both defensively, and somewhat ashamed._

_“It’s not quantity, it’s quality. Have any of them been the right person?”_

_“The right person? We’re fourteen,” Dean tried to shake off the embarrassment._

_“I’m not talking about settling down and getting married. Just someone that makes your heart pound, takes your breath away. You’ve never had that?”_

_“You have?” Dean seemed defensive, his heart pounding in his chest for some reason_

_he couldn’t place._

_“I’ve been with enough people,” he said, almost mocking Dean._

_“Yeah. But this ‘right person’?” How many guys were like this for Cameron to have been with ‘enough people’?_

_“I guess they’ve each made my heart beat fast in their own way, but if I had to choose just one it would be Bryan. He really made my heart race.”_

_Dean’s eyes widened, “Bryan Dumont? The linebacker?”_

_“A lot of guys I’ve been with don’t exactly show me off to the school, if you know what I mean. So don’t tell him I said anything, or he’ll probably kick my ass. Last thing I need.”_

_“Dude actually hates me. Besides, I’m not that type of guy, remember? I won’t tell anyone. To answer your question...have I ever been, what, in love with someone? No.”_

_“You don’t love Lexy?” he couldn’t say the sentence without laughing._

_Dean smiled, laughing, “Not really, no. Not at all.”_

_“You’ll find someone someday.”_

_“Sure I will. Just like in the chick flicks,” Dean said sarcastically, “You’re over romanticizing. Things don’t happen like they do in movies.” There’s no such thing as love._

_“Sure they do. Maybe you’ve just been kissing the wrong people,” Cameron replied, leaning over and brushing Dean’s lips with his own._

_Dean froze. He should have pushed away. He should have asked ‘what the hell’ and pushed away. But his heart stopped, he could hear his blood rushing, and everything fell silent, and he kissed him back, lips closing around Cameron’s._

_Cameron’s fingers ran into Dean’s hair,  parting his lips with his tongue._

_Dean would have been ashamed to admit that most of what he’d learned, it had been from bad porn, and Lexy’s instruction. The guy was supposed to please the girl while the girl made loud noises. That was the basics of it. This was different. It wasn’t messy. Lexy didn’t run her fingers through his hair. Lexy’s tongue never felt this...sensual. It was usually a complete mess...like the porn movies. As Dean’s tongue worked against Cameron’s, fire spreading through his body, to his horror, he was starting to get hard, and the friction of his pants wasn’t helping._

_When the kiss broke, Dean was almost panting. “Y...I...We shouldn’t…” his eyes were wide and his heart was still pounding. “I’m not…”_

_“There’s nothing wrong  with trying something new, Dean. But if you really want me to stop, I will.”_

_“It’s not that,” Dean heard the words coming from his mouth, “I can’t be...I can’t.” He was a boy. Dad...oh, god...dad. Still, he was staring at Cameron’s lips, like an idiot, afraid that he was actually enjoying it._

_“Is it really that bad?” Cameron teased, trying to lighten the mood._

_Yes. It was. It was that bad. Because he’d never felt that good. “Fuck,” Dean whispered, reaching out and running his fingers through Cameron’s hair. There was just enough to hold onto, as he pulled him to him, kissing his lips tenderly, parting them with his own. This wasn’t a porn kiss. This wasn’t a chick-flick kiss. It was more real than that. When their tongues met, Dean couldn’t stifle a soft moan._

_Cameron pulled away, cheek sliding against Dean’s, “We could do that,” Cameron whispered against Dean’s ear, as his hand rubbed Dean’s hard cock through his jeans._

_“Ah…” He blushed. “What are you d-”_

_“Taking care of you,” he breathed, unzipping Dean’s pants and shoving his hand inside, rubbing his cock through his boxers._

_Dean’s boxers were damp, and he was fully hard, almost painfully. Each stroke relieved. Even though Cameron’s hand was on top of fabric- the strokes were expert. It occurred to him that girls didn’t know how to please a cock, because they didn’t have one. Cameron did. He pulled Cameron on top of him, his lips latching onto his neck, his collarbone, with frantic, desperate kisses._

_“Oh Dean,” Cameron moaned softly, his hand quickly sliding beneath the boxers, wrapping around Dean’s cock._

_Hearing his name, those sounds, gave him chills, goosebumps forming on his arms and the back of his neck. He was already so close- so sticky- so close-_

_“-So anyway, I told him no, of course.” The front door opened and giggling ensued._

_“Hold on, Ashley. I should probably get my boyfriend out of the closet.”_

_“Shit.” Dean scrambled, pulling away, and quickly adjusting himself, knocking Cameron gently off of him in the process as he zipped his pants and stood up just in time for the door to swing open._

_“Looks like you two had fun,” Lexy smiled triumphantly, She whispered, “Might want to fix your hair Dean.”_

_Cameron blushed, handing the headphones back to Dean._

_Dean helped Cameron up, flattening his hair, “Nothing happened, Lexy. We were just talking. I’m not gay.”_

_“Defensive much?” Lexy smiled taking Dean by the arm and leading him back to the group. Once he sat down, she sat in his lap. She smirked, at what could only be the fact that he was still hard, and whispered in his ear, “I knew you’d like him.”_

_Cameron resumed his spot in the circle, three people away from Dean._

_“Let’s play truth or dare,” Someone suggested._

 

* * *

 

_Truth or Dare didn’t last long before they decided to raid Lexy’s mom’s liquor cabinet. Dean didn’t feel the effects of the alcohol like the others had. Probably because he wasn’t like them. Dad had let him start drinking when they’d had their talks when he was about twelve, so, it had really lost its value. It was about three in the morning before everyone lost the battle to sleep. Lexy was cuddled up between her friends- all three of which had used the alcohol as an excuse to be extra promiscuous._

_Dean had chosen a spot against the wall, close to the corner that Cameron was in. He stood up, slowly and carefully walking over to the corner. He knelt, grabbing Cameron’s shoulder gently and shaking, “Hey,” he whispered, “You awake?”_

_“Yeah, just barely,” Cameron whispered, “What’s up?”_

_Dean laid down beside Cameron, sliding under the blankets with him and draping his arm around him, pulling him close, pressing his lips to his without saying anything._

_Dean wasn’t being modest anymore. If the alcohol had any effect on him at all, it was tearing away at the insecurity. His arms sank around his waist, pressing his hips up against Cameron’s, their bare legs touching. Dean didn’t like to sleep in clothes, and usually only kept his boxers on- but tonight, he was also wearing a plain black v-neck shirt._

_“Dean,” he whispered, surprised, “Right here? In front of all these people?”_

_“They’re all asleep,” Dean whispered against Cameron’s lips, “And drunk. They’ll sleep it off.” His fingers trailed down Cameron’s sides and up his shirt, his hands hot against Cameron’s flesh._

_Cameron kissed Dean back almost desperately, his hands running up Dean’s arms, his shoulders, until they wrapped around his neck._

_Dean felt dizzy as he pulled away, his lips brushing past Cameron’s cheek, his tongue on his ear, before his lips latched onto his neck, sucking and licking hard enough to leave a bruise. He could feel Cameron getting hard against his leg, and knew Cameron could feel him as well. He tangled his fingers into the boy’s hair, realizing how turned on he was that he was making Cameron hard, making him want him._

_Cameron’s hand stroked Dean through his boxers a few times before slipping his hand inside and stroking him once more. His hand was already sticky. “Dean, I’ve never done this before.”_

_“You’re lying,” Dean gasped. “That’s okay though,” he whispered hotly against Cameron’s ear, as his hands slipped beneath his pajamas. Dean was never one to dip his toes in the water- he always jumped in, “I actually haven’t done this before.” He began to stroke._

_Cameron moaned, burying his face in Dean’s neck to try to stifle the sound._

_“It’s just something most guys like to hear,” Cameron whispered against Dean’s ear._

_“I prefer the truth- I don’t care how many guys you’ve slept with. I’m not most guys.” He mimicked Cameron’s movements carefully, rocking his hips against his hand._

_“You want the truth? I can suck you better than any girl you’ve ever been with, including Lexy Parker.”_

_He sank below the blankets and wrapped his lips around Dean’s cock._

_“Fuck,” Dean moaned, a little louder than he’d wanted. There were no teeth involved in this. Cameron didn’t try to look like a porn star when he did it- his energies were focused exactly where they needed to be. He hadn’t been lying. It was only after a minute or so that Dean’s legs began to shake and he began to fight his orgasm. His hands were tangled in Cameron’s hair, like he was holding on for dear life._

_It only encouraged him more. Cameron kept sucking, stroking him with his hand as well. He began taking more and more of Dean into his mouth until he’d replaced his hand with just his mouth and he was hitting the back of his throat._

_Dean came without warning, his hips lifting off the floor entirely. The orgasm blew his mind- his entire body tingling, head fuzzy. It wasn’t exactly quiet, either- “Aah-” he was shaking. It felt like he wasn’t going to come down off the high. He clamped his hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry...I’m sorry…” he was bright red by the time it was over._

_Cameron didn’t stop. Not until he’d sucked every last drop out of Dean._

_“Like you said they’ll sleep it off,” Cameron whispered, licking his lips._

_“Did you swallow?” Dean said, horrified. Lexy never swallowed. “I didn’t mean to. I mean I didn’t know until…” he put his arms over his face in embarrassment._

_“It’s ok, Dean,” Cameron said, uncovering his face, “I like to swallow.”_

_Dean’s heart raced and pounded. He kept eye contact as he sat up, pinning Cameron down instead, looping his fingers beneath the fabric of his pajama bottoms and tugging them down. “Tell me if I’m bad.” He kept his gaze until he sank down, lips wrapping around his cock._

_“Dean, what are you-...you don’t have to-....fuck….” Cameron moaned softly._

_Dean started out nervously, licking and sucking, fingers caught on Cameron’s hips. He was a quick learner, though. He listened to the small hitches in Cameron’s breaths, for where he liked to be sucked. No teeth. He hated when Lexy used her teeth, finding small cuts the next day. He liked the way he tasted, as his tongue lapped up the pre-cum. He wanted more. He tested his gag reflex a bit much, choking just a little before regaining his poise. His fingers dug into his hips, pulling Cameron greedily to him._

_It wasn’t long before Cameron was trying to pull Dean off by the roots of his hair, “Dean stop! I’m gonna...I’m gonna....” But before Dean could react Cameron was cumming down his throat._

_Dean shivered as he swallowed. Admittedly, he didn’t catch all of it, but he tried. He was surprised by how much he liked it, licking and sucking until there was nothing left, until Cameron’s legs were trembling.  When he came back up, his eyes were searching Cameron’s for approval._

_The boy wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and kissed him._

_They kissed until the taste of cum was gone, until Dean’s lips were swollen and sore. It felt like a release...like something in him was fixed that he hadn’t known was broken. He couldn’t stop touching Cameron, gentle, soft caresses, both with his fingers and tongue._

_“That was so...unexpected,” Cameron said when they’d pulled apart, “No one’s ever done that for me. Ever. It feels amazing.”_

_“I guess Bryan Dumont isn’t really the giving type,” Dean said, half smiling, “Y’know, you shouldn’t be the only one trying in a fuck, or a relationship like that.” The high was starting to come down, and realization was starting to sink in. He tried to hide it, stealing a little happiness for himself, lying down beside Cameron, “Can I hold you?”._

_“What?” Cameron said, tilting his head in both shock and confusion._

_“I said that you shouldn’t be the only one trying in a relationship,” Dean repeated slowly._

_“No, I thought you asked if you could hold me, right here, in front of all these people.”_

_“Oh. I did. I mean, I’m not really tired. I could just move later. Why? Is that weird?”_

_“No, it’s not I guess. Just another first for me.”_

_Dean pulled Cameron close, fingers tracing his shoulders and back in a comforting way, like he used to do to Sam when he was younger, before running his fingers through his hair, “So you’re telling me that all these ‘right people’ couldn’t even do anything for you?”_

_“I guess we both have been with the wrong people. It doesn’t feel wrong with you though.”_

_“No…” Dean said, almost solemnly, “It doesn’t.”_

_Cameron wrapped his arms tight around Dean, running his fingers through his hair._

_“I’m glad I came. To the party that is...I mean….” his cheeks flushed._

_“Well, I mean,” Dean said awkwardly, “...That too.”_

_“That too,” Cameron flushed more._

_“Cameron...I...I think I like boys, too.” Dean whispered._

_“I think after everything that was obvious,” Cameron smiled, kissing Dean more._

 

It was the first time Dean had ever been happy, ever let himself sink into something that was his. They’d had three weeks. Three glorious weeks of sleepovers at Cameron’s grandparents house, kissing and touching and laughing. Dean’s grades started to improve at school, he started smiling more. Of course, dad wasn’t home, dad didn’t see, and dad didn’t care.

_“Where have you been, Dean?”_

_“I was at a friend’s house, studying.” Dean said, setting his bookbag down at the door, “Nice to see you, too, dad.”_

_“There’s no time for studying, son. We’re leaving tomorrow. There’s a werewolf pack in Ohio that’s taking out humans like they’re flies. The O’Connors are packing up tonight and so are we. We’re leaving first thing in the morning.”_

_Dean’s heart sank. Sammy’s hazel eyes looked at him from across the room, almost pathetically._

_“Dad, what about the football game?”_ What about Cameron?

_“There are human lives at stake here, Dean. What’s gotten into you? Take care of what you need to, and get packing. Do you understand me?”_

_“...yes sir.”_

_“I thought that we could use an extra set of hands, so we’ll be dropping Sammy off at Uncle Bobby’s for this hunt. You and Amber are coming along.”_

_“Oh…”_

_John shook his head, “Oh? That’s all you have to say? You’re hopeless. Go pack.”_

_Dean had ran as soon as dad left, back to Cameron, climbing up through his window, crashing against him in such a hurry, if anyone had been there, they would have seen and Dean wouldn’t even have known._

_“Dean, what’s going on? What’s the rush?” he asked, his tone concerned._

_Dean Winchester was blotchy and red, like he’d been crying. His eyes were welled up with tears as well, although he refused to let them fall, “We’re leaving. In the morning.” His body started to shake, and two tears managed to escape, “I’m such an idiot. I’m so stupid for thinking that I deserved anything. That anything could be mine. Fuck.” He pushed into the wall._

_“What do you mean you’re leaving tomorrow? Like for good?”_

_Cameron looked confused as he wrapped Dean up in a hug._

_“I told you. I told you I move a lot. We stayed too long. I got too attached. I’m so stupid,”_

_Dean pushed against Cameron, exerting a lot less energy than he normally would. It didn’t deter Cameron, he wrapped his arms around Dean again, holding him._

_“Shh...it’s going to be ok. We’ll figure this out.”_

_“There’s nothing to figure out. We’re leaving. It’s not okay. I’m not okay. What am I even-?”_

_“Listen, I’m not gonna pretend we’re going to write letters and have phone calls and grow old together one day. We’re not. I know you’re scared, scared you won’t find anyone else like us, but you will. You’ll find that special one someday.”_

_Tears began streaming down Dean’s face, “You know that’s a lie. I’m not going to have someone. I’m gonna be a high school dropout with some slutty wife who hates me because I’m a bad lay because of what I am, cause I sure as hell can’t ever tell my dad about this. I’m done. I don’t have a future. I don’t have anything.”_

_Cameron kissed Dean’s tears away. “You do. You do have a future sweetie.”_

_Dean clung to Cameron, latching on as though he couldn’t bear to let go, “I...love you.”_

_“I love you too. I want you to be happy, Dean,” Cameron replied, kissing him._

_“I don’t want to go.” His tears were falling, staining Cameron’s shirt, even as he kissed him back. It was messy. He’d never felt more like a child, but he couldn’t stop crying. “I don’t want to go.”_

* * *

 

The old, rusty bottlecap he was turning in his fingers was the only thing he had left of Cameron, aside from the memories. He’d taken it the morning after the sleepover, picking up the bottle they had spun off of the floor and twisting the cap off, drinking the flat coke as he walked along the train tracks home.

Cameron had been right- there were no phonecalls, no letters. Dean had pocketed Cameron’s address; but, let that ship sail...because it was for the best; and, because, no matter what anyone told him, he couldn’t be happy.

For starters, he knew he wasn’t coming back. Once the Winchesters were gone, they were gone for good. Cameron, though...Cameron _did_ have a chance to move on, and be happy. He had a future ahead of him that wasn’t this life; so, Dean let him slip away with the town that day, staring out the passenger mirror of dad’s Impala, watching it fade further and further out of his reach.

Dean always listened to dad- even as John Winchester peeled away at his son’s humanity, his happiness, his dreams. It was always ‘yes, sir’, because it was _dad_ , and dad kept him and Sammy safe. Dean watched his grades plummet, and his free will stripped itself from him. The absolute fact was that he was going to take over, be dad’s partner, so dad wasn’t alone. He was a hunter. This was the family business, therefore, his business.

He tried to ignore that these rules didn’t seem to apply to Sammy. He was happy for his little brother. After that, leaving South Dakota, he hadn’t been able to ignore it. He damn well couldn’t cry in front of John Winchester; but, dad knew that Dean wasn’t happy.

Dad had called it a ‘mood’- and, instead of trying to get to the bottom of it- he had brushed it off and pretended like it wasn’t there for the most part. In retrospect, Dean supposed the only thing dad really knew about how to ‘bond’ with his son was hunting- which they did a lot of during those next few months while Sam stayed behind, and went to school.

Eventually, they started talking more again; but, never about important things. It was usually about what they were hunting, where they’d go next, about the car...or how Dean could improve on his techniques. Sometimes they’d get beers with other hunters, they’d occasionally shoot pool, or play card games- usually when they were strapped for cash.

Even though dad was convinced that ‘whatever your deal is’, had been resolved, Dean was aware that things would never be the same between them. There was a part of him, a part of who he was, that dad didn’t know about- and couldn’t know about. The part of him that loved who he loved...couldn’t exist in John Winchester’s world. Where all the other things dad had taken from him, had been dealt with as a ‘Dean, you’re going to this’ and an obedient, ‘yes sir’ to follow, this would have been different. Explosive. Dean couldn’t like boys.

He was a hunter, he was a man. He called himself many things- but hadn’t spoken _that_ word since then. John Winchester’s son couldn’t be gay. He didn’t need to have the conversation to know how ashamed he’d be of what was in his heart, so, he took the only option left. He hid it, buried it away in a box in some dusty corner of his brain with every other part of himself that didn’t fit dad’s ideal image of him; and he grew accustomed to the hole in his heart that would never be full. Something died inside of Dean Winchester, and no one talked about it- no one dared.

Almost two years after Cameron, they’d moved here, to Sioux Falls, near their ‘family’, so that Sam could go to a good school and so dad could work some cases with the local hunters. And here felt permanent. It had been months now, and dad had been turning this into something more for he and Sammy. They’d bought a trailer. The heat and air worked, the water ran, the cabinets were stocked full of beer, and Sam’s staples of Lucky Charms and Spaghetti O’s. There was a TV, and both Dean and Sam had their own separate rooms. Amber O’Connor, his best friend since childhood, had moved across the street with her mom, dad’s hunting partner. It was a feeling that Dean could scarcely remember...home.

So, this is where he was now. Somewhere he’d promised himself he’d never be again...back in South Dakota, with too much love in his heart, enough to resemble hope.

He ran the bottlecap over in his hand one final time before he got up, throwing it into the trashcan by the door.  He had a good feeling, for the first time in so long, that maybe this- he and Cas- might not be what he wanted it to be and might never be- but, it was his...and he’d see where it took him. They couldn’t say he didn’t try. Just this one more time.

He fell back into bed, opening the cassette player, putting in his REO Speedwagon tape. He rewound until a familiar song started up, and he closed his eyes, letting sleep take him the rest of the way.

_And I can't fight this feeling anymore-_

_I've forgotten what I started fighting for,_

_It's time to bring this ship into the shore,_

_And throw away the oars, forever._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs featured in this Chapter:  
> Can't Fight This Feeling- REO Speedwagon  
> Bohemian Rhapsody- Queen  
> The Show Must Go On- Queen  
> Somebody to Love- Queen  
> Luck be a Lady- Frank Sinatra  
> Can't Help Falling in Love- Elvis Presley  
> Jump- Van Halen
> 
> Book featured:  
> "Fellowship of the Ring"- J.R.R. Tolkien


	2. Goodnight, Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a choice to become his friend, and Castiel hasn't regretted it for one moment as time has passed. He's never had this much fun, never been this happy.. and...he's never felt this way about anyone. As Castiel has a breakthrough of his own feelings, he struggles to find a way to tell Dean. Meanwhile, Dean's feelings have surfaced a new word: love. It's a hell of a lot scarier than any kind of monster Dean's ever encountered. Dean has a hard time balancing the life that he knows, and the life he wants as his 'family' intervenes. Castiel is still coping with a past that might make it hard for him to believe in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No trigger warnings for this chapter- mostly copious amounts of fluff.  
> Comments, feedback, and thoughts are always appreciated. <3  
> As always, there are a couple of Easter Eggs. Have fun!

* * *

 

* * *

 

_ September 29, 1998  _

 

_ I’m glad Dean was able to get his car finished up today. He keeps insisting that it’s not my fault,  but I feel horrible about it. I helped him with his homework from when he was out. I had to get his schedule from the office. He’s so behind. I couldn’t even begin to imagine slacking off that much. But, he’s a lot smarter than he gives himself credit for.  _

_ A couple of his teachers were real assholes. Mrs. Morrow, the chemistry teacher, said, “I don’t even know why you’re bothering. He’s failing. No use dragging a good student like you down with him.” What a bitch. We’re both taking Foods though, with Mrs. Evans. He’s in Advanced Culinary though and Advanced Culinary Arts: Baking and Pastry. Mrs. Evans said he’s one of her best students.  _

_ I also met Sam for the first time today. He’s pretty cool. We have a lot in common. He likes Pokemon. His favorite is Ninetails, which is cool, not as cool as Lapras or Jolteon.  I wonder what else we have in common. I didn’t get a chance to ask, because Dean was rushing Sam out of the car. Probably didn’t want him to be late. He’s such a great big brother. I wish Anna was like that for me.  _

 

_ October 8, 1998  _

 

_ So, Dean has Baking & Pastry right before I have my Foods class. I saw this amazing cake that he made. It was so beautiful, easily the best in the class. Mrs. Evans and I had a piece of it, and  it tasted even better than it looked. Maybe that’s what he wants to be when he finishes high school. A chef or something. He’d be great at that. I told him he wasn’t nothing.  _

_ We went back to the diner again. It’s like our third time this week. Connie even knows my name and my order when we come in. We always sit in the same booth by the jukebox. It must be Dean’s favorite table. The food there is so good. I think it’s my new favorite place.   _

_ After the diner, we watched  _ The Untouchables _ at my place. Mom really likes him. She did make her meatloaf and a pie, so he must be pretty special in her book. ’The movie wasn’t bad, but definitely more of Dean’s thing. He said it’s my turn to pick a movie next. I kind of want to go see _ What Dreams May Come _ in theaters, or rewatch _ Ever After  _ but I don’t want to force Dean to Watch a chick flick when they’re totally not his thing. Maybe we’ll watch a horror movie together, what with Halloween coming up.   _

 

_ October 24, 1998  _

 

_ I went to Dean’s game last night. It was cold out and the bleachers were really hard, but I’m starting to see why people like the whole sports thing. It was pretty exciting watching Dean run up and down the field. When he got a touchdown.everyone went crazy. My adrenaline was definitely pumping.  _

_ After the game we all went to the park to celebrate again. Dean and I left the crowd to go swing at the little playground. Luckily, it didn’t rain this time and no one dared  touch Dean’s car. Not again. We played a game of Hide and Seek. It was nice just being kids again. Dean says he and Sam used to play a lot. I wished things would have been different. I wish Anna was a good sister. I wish I could have met Dean before high school. It would have been nice to play games with Balthazar and Dean both.  _

_ The three of us haven’t really had a chance to hang out much, but I kinda get the feeling they don’t like each other,  so I try not to push the matter. It sucks. I finally get another friend and they don’t like each other. I hope Balthazar isn’t mad at me for hanging out so much with Dean. I mean he’s usually busy anyway,  but still I hope he doesn’t feel replaced because that’s certainly not the case. Not after everything he’s done for me.  _

 

_ October 31, 1998 _

 

_ So, for Halloween I did something I haven’t done in years. Dean and Sam talked me into going trick or treating, because they wanted to heist as much free candy as humanly possible. I tried to tell them we were all too old, but they insisted that no one really cared. So Dean went as Danny from Grease, not much of a change there. Sam went as Ash from Pokemon, which was totally awesome. I went as a vampire.  _

_ I jumped out at them when they first showed up to try to scare them. It didn’t really go as planned. Dean almost punched me on instinct, but Sam grabbed him. Then, they talked by themselves for while. I guess Sam calmed him down, because he was better after that. I told him I was sorry for scaring him, but he said he wasn’t scared.  _

_ We got a ton of candy. Then we went through a corn maze because none of us had ever gone before. It was a lot of fun. I’m still sorry that I upset Dean but he seemed to have a lot of fun the rest of the night. I’m just glad that we didn’t watch that scary movie. I don’t want Dean to be upset, especially not because of me.  _

 

_ November 8, 1998 _

 

_ I can’t believe I’m actually writing this. I saw Saving Private Ryan. I told Dean he could go ahead and pick another movie since I couldn’t think of one, so he picked Saving Private Ryan, rated R, and he snuck both of us in to see it. I was freaking out the whole time. I totally thought we were going to get caught. I was scared so bad that I was shaking, so Dean put his arm around my shoulder to calm me down. He probably gets plenty of practice with Sam, though Sam’s like Dean in the fact that it’s hard to picture them being afraid of anything. Except vampires I guess. Dean just told me to calm down and relax, that we weren’t going to get caught, so that helped me calm down a bit.  _

_ Afterwards we went to the diner and got milkshakes and burgers. Dean got a slice of pie. I don’t know where he puts it all. He gave me a bite and it was really good, I just don’t have room for that much.  _

_ I thought we were going to go home, but, as always, Dean had other plans We drove out to the middle of the country and pulled off to the side of the road. Dean had me get out and lay on the hood of the car. Then we watched the meteor shower. It was so beautiful. It was one of the only times mom has let me stay out past curfew.  _

 

Castiel exhaled, shutting the yellow journal on his lap, looking up at the man sitting across from him, scribbling notes in a notebook of his own. He waited for a response. 

“So?” Castiel asked, nervously.

“So,” the slightly balding man pointed his fingers, breaking into a genuine smile, before pushing his glasses up, “It seems that this is the happiest that I’ve ever seen you, Castiel. Are you...happy?”

“I guess I am,” Castiel noticed, “Life is pretty good right now.”

“It seems like you’ve been pretty busy, but  you didn’t mention any stressors in your life, both at school and at home.”

“School hasn’t been too bad. I guess spending time with Dean’s been a distraction, I haven’t really been panicking about my grades.”

“And how are your grades, Castiel?”

“Oh. Good. I took the PSAT. I was in the 96th percentile, I got an award.” Castiel smiled at the notebook. He was proud of himself for that.

“And you’re still going into the medical field?” The man flipped through the pages again, “To be a nurse?”

“Yes. Eventually.”  
“Very good, Castiel. You’ve made such progress. And it’s always good to have goals, and people to help you reach them. You are still friends with Balthazar, you mentioned, how is he?”

“Busy, as usual. He just went to New York with his Dad for the week. I guess that’s not a bad thing. He and Dean are so different. We haven’t really had much time for the three of us to hang out together. It’s almost like they’re on opposite schedules. But, Balthazar and I are still good. Still best friends.”

“And how are you coping? Do you still feel indebted to Balthazar when you see him, like you’ll…” he flipped through his notes, searching for Castiel’s words, “...’never be able to repay him.’ That one moment changed the dynamic between the two of you completely, didn’t it?” 

A lump formed in Castiel’s throat, and he fell silent, almost whispering, “I don’t want to talk about that. Not today.”

“Very well, we’ll move on to a happier subject,” the man obliged, “Last time you were here, I asked you to bring your favorite photo.”

“Oh, yeah, here, Dr. Fox,” Castiel pulled a thin strip of photos from the back of his journal, handing it over. 

It was a series of photos taken at a mall photo booth. In the first picture, Dean was wearing his classic troublemaker grin as he gave Castiel bunny ears. In the second, Castiel had been making a silly face and Dean was laughing so hard his whole body had doubled over. The third photo were genuine smiles from both of them, remnants of Dean’s laughter present in his smile. In the fourth, Dean was yelling at Sam, who’d climbed over him to crash the photo with a peace sign.

“I can only assume that this is Sam in the last picture?” Dr. Fox suggested, as he gazed over the photos, “And the other with you is Dean?”

Castiel nodded.

“Talk to me about your friendship with Dean, Castiel.”

Castiel shrugged, “He’s my best friend.”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately,” the therapist noted, “Almost, if I may, to the point that it’s become a bit of an obsession. You’ve written very little about anything other than Dean since the two of you began your friendship in September.”

“We spend a lot of time together. And you told me to try to focus on…”

“...the good, yes, I know. Has the bullying at school stopped?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

“Because of Dean?”

“Well, yeah…” Castiel couldn’t place it, but he felt a little uncomfortable, and fidgeted in his chair. “Obsession is a little strong, don’t you think, Dr. Fox? He’s my best friend. It’s exciting, it’s something new…”

“New?” The doctor questioned, “You have had Balthazar as a friend since the third grade.”

“It’s different…”

“Is it different, Castiel, because Dean is different? That you might see Dean differently than you see Balthazar?”

“Well, they’re really different. I mean, Balthazar is Balthazar...you know. And Dean is...Dean.” That explanation fell short of what he’d wanted it to.

Dr. Fox closed his notes, and focused his attention on Castiel entirely, “Let me ask you this. In a prior session, Castiel, you confided in me that you are gay.”

Castiel blushed. It was always hard to hear it spoken so freely. The therapist and Balthazar were the only ones that even knew. “...yeah…” Castiel muttered, too embarrassed to see the direction this was headed.

“Is it possible that maybe your feelings for Dean might be romantic?”

Castiel’s heart stopped in his chest, “What?” he asked, shocked. “No. Dean’s straight.” He couldn’t understand why those words were the first to come out, rather than any other argument he could have presented. He couldn’t actually have feelings for Dean. They were just friends.

“Have you asked him?”

“He’s dating my sister.”

“And you state on October second ‘I can’t believe Dean is dating Anna. He deserves so much better. He doesn’t even seem to like her, just tolerates her.’”

“He does deserve better. You’ve heard about my sister,” Castiel evaded, “But I never said  _ I _ was better. I never even said I…”

“I just want you to explore the possibility, Castiel. It’s what I’m here for, to discuss things with- to help your life get back to normal.”

Because having a crush on your best friend was normal.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll just review. I had asked you to bring your favorite photo. I had expected a photo of you and your mom, one of you with Balthazar, or maybe even you at the award ceremony. Instead, you bring this one of Dean.”

Castiel was blushing harder, “I like that picture a lot, we had a lot of fun that day,”

“I don’t doubt that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that. And, to be clear, Castiel, I think that there is definitely a possibility that Dean may have feelings for you as well.”

“What?”

“Well, just look at the photo. The way you look at each other. Now, I’m only judging by what you told me, but, this diner, as well as the park, sounds a lot like a date- a place that the two of you have made your own. He insists upon paying. He stands up for you in school against all of his friends from the football team. He is dating your sister, but you never mention Dean going on dates with her- only that he picks you up in the morning, drops you off at night, and then various other outings you decide to do. You also mentioned that he put an arm around you at the movie as well. You also laid out on the hood of Dean’s car watching the stars.”

Castiel continued to look shocked, though he was turning pale as Dr. Fox continued, “You spend time with him, instead of at home, worried about your studies. And you do seem happy, Castiel. So, whether Dean is truly a friend, or if he is more than a friend, I hope that this happiness will continue for you.”

“He couldn’t…” Castiel whispered, “I’m nothing special.”

Dr. Fox sat up, walking to Castiel and sitting in the chair beside him, to see him more clearly, “We’ve spoken about this, too, Castiel. You are special, and you deserve love and happiness, starting with loving yourself.”

Castiel nodded, he couldn’t fight his therapist over the very lesson he’d started putting in his head, even if he still didn’t agree.

“You still haven’t come out to your family?”

Castiel shook his head, staring at the carpet.

“Are you still afraid of rejection? Your mother has…”

“...enough to deal with, without me disappointing her.”

“I don’t think you’d be a disappointment to her, Castiel. I think that’s a bit unfair to her.”

Dr. Fox sighed as he looked at his watch, “We’ve just about run out of time. I think that you have a lot to think about. And, Castiel, I said, think, don’t worry. You can’t be afraid of the world forever. Are you still taking your medication as prescribed?”

“Yes,” Castiel said, fumbling with his bag.

“And has it been working? Are you still having side effects? Insomnia? Nausea? Headaches?”

Castiel shook his head again, “No. I was having trouble sleeping when I first started them, but it’s a lot better, and I almost never get headaches anymore.”

“Good, that’s what I like to hear. Call the office if anything changes, and we’ll get it fixed. Before you leave, let’s set some goals.”

“Alright.”

“Thanksgiving is coming up. I want you to write a journal entry of anything you feel thankful for. One line, or ten pages. I want you to take the time to think about your feelings, and perhaps reflect on what we’ve talked about regarding not keeping them in. Can you do that?”

“Yes, Dr. Fox.”

“Then, as always, Castiel, it’s been an absolute pleasure. I will see you at our next session. Marie will schedule you at the desk.”

Castiel shoved his notebook into his bag, and headed towards the door, feeling a little bitter for all the turmoil in his mind and in his heart, “Goodbye, Dr. Fox.”

Castiel remained quiet while his mom drove him back to school for his last class, missing both his Study Hall and World History class with Dean. He couldn’t focus on what his teacher was saying about Geometry, because all that he could think about were Dr. Fox’s words.  _ “You confided in me that you are gay. Is it possible that maybe your feelings for Dean might be romantic? Dean put his arm around you in the movie.” _

The more he thought about everything Dr. Fox had said, the more he thought about Dean, in an entirely new light.  _ He looks sexy in his leather jacket, behind the wheel of his dad’s car. And those tight football pants when he’s at practice. That smile. Those lips. What would it feel like to kiss those lips?  _

_ Does Dean really have feelings for me? Like, those kinds of feelings? He acts like he hates Anna, but that doesn’t make him gay. I can’t ask. I don’t want to freak him out. And I don’t want to ruin our friendship. I don’t want to ruin what we have.  _

_ He really did put his arm around me in the theater.  _

_ I can’t love him. I mean, I could, he’s a great guy. Too great...for me at least. And he’s not gay. And even  if he was, he could do a lot better than me. I mean, he does have like everything I’m looking for in a boyfriend. He’s sexy and nice and a lot of fun, but….  _

Somewhere between all his thoughts, the bell had rung, and he’d shuffled outside with his head still in a fog. It wasn’t until he heard the music that he came back to reality.

Of course it was Dean. Dean was sitting cross-legged on top of the Impala, an acoustic guitar in his hands, as his fingers strummed the chords to  _ Dust in the Wind _ . 

It wasn’t that he’d never sang before- he sang in the car all the time- but, somehow this was different. He was tuned out completely except for the sweet melodies the guitar was doling out. It sent shivers up Castiel’s body.

_ Now, don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky, _

_ It slips away, _

_ And all your money won't another minute buy. _

_ Dust in the wind, _

_ All we are is dust in the wind… _

 

Castiel’s heart hammered,  _ I’m in love with Dean. Fuck. What do I do now?  _

“You have a beautiful voice,” Castiel said as the song ended.

Dean jumped a little. He was in his own place, sometimes- distant from the world he was so different from. He hopped down off the top of the car, holding the guitar in one hand and smiling, “Hey, stranger. Where were you today? Missed you in Study Hall and World History.”  He evaded the compliment. It was good, actually, that he’d thought to wait for Castiel to make sure he hadn’t left for the entirety of the day. He could sympathize with Mrs. Novak, Cas really was bad at making phone calls to change plans.

He’d actually had to study, he’d been so bored. He’d finished his Algebra worksheet and his World History timeline. He took Castiel’s bag, and the guitar, putting them in the trunk, above the secret compartment of dad’s hunting gear.

_ He missed me….as a friend...just a friend.  _

“I missed you too,” he replied, “I didn’t know you played.” 

“Can’t say it surprises you though, right?” Dean teased. Castiel usually wasn’t surprised when Dean liked something classic, something about him that fit in the normal, “So, where were you?” he asked again, leaning against the car, waiting for an answer.

“Doctor’s appointment,” Castiel replied, leaving out the details, “And no. It doesn’t surprise me. You’re a man of many talents.” 

The blush that crept over Dean’s cheeks wasn’t really at the truth of the compliment. In his own opinion, he didn’t really think he had all too many talents. The blush was from the less-than-appropriate talents he wished he could show Castiel.

It had been two months since that first not-date, and, if anything, the flames had grown higher, more out of control. He’d even started toying around with the word ‘love’. He stalled, “Everything ok?”

“Yeah, it was just a check up,” Castiel answered. 

Before Castiel could say anything further, a girl ran past him and jumped into Dean’s arms. A pit of jealousy instantly formed in Castiel’s stomach, making his insides feel sick. The pit of jealousy deepened when Dean’s arms went around her catching her mid air. 

“Dean! God! It’s been forever! How have you been?” the girl asked, laughing. She had short wavy brown hair and Castiel couldn’t remember seeing her before.

Dean picked her up and spun her around before holding her at arm’s distance, eyes blown wide in surprise, “Amber, you’re back!” He examined her, “Are you alright?” His tone dropped below a whisper, “Did...did everyone else come back?” He hugged her again, voice raising back for the “I missed you.”

“Yeah everyone’s ok. Your dad and Bobby went back out again,” Amber whispered, in Dean’s ear, so Castiel couldn’t hear, “Look at you. Hanging out with Castiel Novak. I almost didn’t believe it when you called. Tramp.” 

The only response about his dad was a nod. The disappointment went unsaid. He focused instead on the last words, ignoring the playful one, “Oh! Amber,” Dean turned back around to Castiel, “This is Cas-” he quickly shoved in the “-tiel,” so it sounded like two different words. He was the only one who got away with ‘Cas’, the same way he was the only one who got away with ‘Sammy’.

“Hey Cas-tiel,” Amber teased, “Long time, no see.” 

“Hey Amber,” Castiel said, a bit relieved, “I didn’t recognize you. You changed your hair.” 

“Yeah, I thought brown was a better look. And short. What have you two been up to while I’ve been away?” she sat on the trunk of the Impala. 

“Friend...things…” Dean spat out awkwardly. He’d stupidly confided every bit of his infatuation with Castiel Novak to her, gone as far as to see what she knew about him. He had spilled everything. He felt about as graceful as a moose. He should trust her, she’d never let him down before...but he felt protective of his secret, and of Cas. How was Amber to know what had happened since she’d been hunting with his family, and her mom for over a month? He wanted to bury his face in a hole for lack of constructive thought.

Amber’s eyes narrowed at Dean as he cut himself off “-Well, c’mon, we’re gonna be late picking up Sam.” Before anything else came out that he might live to regret.

_ Friend _ . The word that had made Castiel so happy before was suddenly a knife, stabbing deep at his heart. He started to climb in back, but Amber shook her head. 

“You can ride shotgun. I don’t mind sitting in back with Sam.” She didn’t wait for an answer before crawling in back.

Just as Dean had confided in Amber, she had confided in him- it was what best friends did. Before they’d left South Dakota the first time, but after the sleepover, Amber had finally admitted she had a long time crush on Dean. 

It was expected- they’d been each other’s firsts with a lot of things- hunting partners, friend, even the other’s first kiss. They’d been friends since he was five and she was four and had grown up crammed into hotel rooms, sharing beds, and keeping each other company. They were really an extension of the other, and Dean loved her...always thought he’d settle down with her one day...well, as settled as hunters get. Their parents had thought the same. Dean hadn’t considered anything different before Cameron.

When she admitted her feelings to him, he’d never thought that his conclusion to her would be “I’m gay”. They cried on each other that night. The following day, Amber had seemed to have gotten over it- and began, of course, asking a million inappropriate questions, as she always did.

That was who they were with each other- best friends, and brutally honest, almost to a fault. She wasn’t a lover, never would have been, Dean realized. Instead, he thought of her like a sister now, which made Dean even more uncomfortable when a year or so later, she’d admitted she had feelings for Sam.

But, the two of them always did their best. And here they were- Amber afraid to tell Sam because he was oblivious; and Dean too afraid to tell Cas because...well, reasons. 

Dean drove them to the middle school, and they sat in the parking lot waiting for Sam, Dean unusually quiet, afraid that one of his secrets might accidentally slip out.

“Since when do you listen to the oldies Dean?” Amber snickered. 

Castiel blushed.  _ Since we became friends.  _

Dean didn’t answer, merely shoved the tape into the cassette player, and Led Zeppelin began playing. He felt kind of off, like his walls were coming back up, “Shut up,” he said. She knew why. She just lived to torment him. As if to shield himself, he grabbed his leather jacket from behind her and put it on as a statement that he was Dean Winchester, and he was still leather, and rock ‘n roll, and badass. 

_ God he looks sexy in a leather jacket,  _ Castiel thought before he realized he was staring a bit too long.  _ I hate Dr. Fox for this. I wouldn’t even be having these thoughts if it weren’t for him. No, you just hate that he’s brought it all to the surface,  _ his conscience countered,  _ You’ve had these thoughts for awhile now. And honestly would anything really change much? Rides to school, late night park visits, milkshakes at the diner? Holding hands, kissing, touching, having sex in the backseat of this car...  _

They waited, listening to music, Castiel and Dean lost somewhere in the swirl of feelings that were transparent to everyone around them, it seemed, except for themselves. About the time that Sam would come out. Dean turned back to Amber.

“You should duck down,” he said with a mischievous grin, “You’ll scare the shit out of him.”

Amber snuck out the other passenger side _ ,  _ waiting. When Sam came out she tackled him from behind as he opened the door to the Impala. Sam instantly flipped her onto her back before he realized who it was and followed up by tackling her. 

“You’re here,” Sam said, squeezing her into a hug. 

“And you’re still pretty fast,” she groaned, rubbing her back, “You couldn’t have tossed me in the grass?” 

“Would you toss your attacker in the grass?” Sam said raising an eyebrow. 

“Shit no,” Amber smiled. 

Sam helped her up and the two climbed into the backseat of the Impala. 

“So, is Dad home?” Sam asked. 

“No,” Amber said, before Dean could respond, “Another job. This one in Indiana.” 

_ I wonder why Amber had to go in the first place,  _ Castiel thought,  _ Maybe it’s like some kind of internship thing. I hope Dean doesn’t go away for months on end. He’s always saying he’s going to take over the family business.  _

“So where to?” Sam said, completely shrugging off Amber’s words.

Dean was gripping the steering wheel tighter than he would have liked. How could they be so careless in front of Castiel? It wasn’t as though he’d told him about this life….that he would really  _ ever _ tell him about this life. And here, tiny Sam was tackling Amber to the ground just like dad had trained him to do, at school, in front of not only Castiel, but his classmates. Amber was talking about ‘jobs’ and dad. “I need to drop Cas off at home, then you two can play catch up,” Dean shot a dangerous glare to the back.

Sometimes, like this, Dean felt like dad, and it sent a chill up his spine...but he calmed himself down. He wasn’t dad. He was just protecting Cas. Protecting Cas from a world he didn’t need to know about. He cringed as he remembered Halloween. What would his sweet Castiel do if he knew that vampires were real, and dangerous? It alarmed him to remember how ignorant civilians were. It rubbed him wrong, but even on that night, he’d vowed to protect Castiel from the world of things that went bump in the night, and from who he truly was.  _ He’ll never know, he’ll never be exposed. _ He felt his agitation prickle as Amber leaned up to the passenger seat.

“Oh come on Castiel!” Amber begged, “You have to come out and celebrate with us! We always go to the arcade after one of us gets back from a trip.” 

“I...I wouldn’t want to intrude. And I have a paper due tomorrow,” Castiel replied, quietly. 

“Nonsense,” Amber retorted, “Dean’s told me so much about you. I practically feel like you’re family, and  _ family _ goes to the arcade after a trip, right Dean?” 

Castiel’s stomach had butterflies.  _ He talks about me? To people?  _

“Yeah,” Dean said, his teeth clenched as he shot Amber a look, “You should come. It’ll be fun. Amber has one of those mobile phones if you need to call your mom.” He felt like he was shooting himself in the foot. Amber was, at best, worse than having a little sister who was more than willing to share embarrassing life stories and details. “It’s the Raceway, the place I showed you when we drove past the diner. We pretty much keep them in business.”

“Oh, alright. I mean, it does sound like it’d be a lot of fun. I’ve never been,”  Castiel agreed. 

“Great! Step on it, Dean! You’re driving like an old man!” Amber laughed.

Dean stiffened up again,  _ Only because you’re blabbing like an old woman. _

To Sam, Amber said in a hushed voice, “So, how far have they gotten?” 

“What are you talking about?” Sam whispered back, his eyes narrowing. 

“I mean are they going out yet? Dean and Castiel?” 

“Aren’t they just friends?”

“Dean totally likes Castiel. How did you not know that?” 

“What???” Sam said loud enough for the front seat to hear. 

“Shh,” Amber hissed. 

Dean was still driving a good 50MPH when he shot them both a look again, as if he knew, before cranking up the volume in the Impala louder than he ever usually had it. The joke was on him. 

 

_ Dirty, rotten, filthy, stinkin… _

 

Dean’s face had turned so red that there was no hiding it by the time the initial lyrics rolled around. He could die. Right here in the car.

 

_ She's my cherry pie, _

_ Cool drink of water such a sweet surprise, _

_ Tastes so good makes a grown man cry, _

_ Sweet Cherry Pie… _

 

Amber burst out laughing, even Sam snickered. 

Castiel was completely oblivious. He’d never really heard the song before. Then he smiled. “Oh I get it. Because you like pie so much Dean. Right?” 

“Yep,” Amber covered quickly, “Dean loves him some pie.” 

Dean almost drove through a stop sign and slammed on the breaks to catch it. The song did remind him of Castiel, though he hadn’t actually ASKED if Cas was a virgin still. It was just a fantasy. He’d actually been listening to this song the other night as he imagined Cas straddled on his lap, glasses off, those blue eyes focusing on him as he whispered, ‘I want you to be my first, Dean.’ 

They’d been stopped for way longer than five seconds.

“Dean,”Amber poked him from the back seat. 

“You ok?” Castiel asked. 

“Huh, yeah, love me some pie,” he shrugged it off with as much dignity as he could muster, resuming his driving the additional block away to the arcade. He pulled into one of the many vacant parking spots up front. The place was run down, and lacked business, probably because it was hidden on the very edge of town behind an ice cream shop, and some restaurants and offices. 

There were batting cages, a putt-putt course, a large arcade, and a go-kart track. The music from all the arcade games could even be heard outside. Dean couldn’t get out of the car fast enough. 

“Hey, Amber, can I call my mom?” Castiel asked. She handed the phone over and climbed out of the car on Dean’s side with Sam.

“Hey, Amber...uh...did dad give you any money for us? Kinda running short on cash.” And food, actually. And Uncle Bobby was on the hunt with dad, so Dean wasn’t making any of his own money doing mechanic’s work.

“No, but your uncle did. He told me to give you this too. Made me swear not to read it.”

She handed over  a wad of cash and a note. 

 

_ Hey Dean,  _

_ I know your dad left you money for groceries at the house, but here’s a little something for you and your brother to have fun with. I heard you’ve been doing better in school and you’re winning the season so far. Sam’s been doing good in school too. You’ve been doing a great job with everything. I’m proud of you, son.  _

_ Bobby _

Dean nodded, folding it into his back pocket, and putting the money into his wallet. He didn’t have to look to know that it was more than he felt he deserved. “Thanks for giving it to me, Amber.”

Amber nodded, “Lighten up, will you? I’m not going to tell him, though I am kind of amazed he hasn’t already figured it out.”

He noticed the wind had picked up, and that it was definitely starting to feel like late fall. “Hey,” he called to Castiel and Sam, who were already by the door, “Wait up!” He grabbed Amber’s hand and sprinted in.

He was relieved to find it was the manager, Don, working instead of Jerry. He didn’t like the way that Jerry looked at Amber sometimes when she played the dancing game. He’d come to know all of the arcade staff by name. It really was tradition to come here...and there really were a lot of ‘trips’.

“How’re my favorite kids doing?” Don asked, getting out a lot of tokens. They always got a discount when Don was working, double the tokens. “Do I need to start up the track for you?”

“Yeah, we’ll race. I owe it to Amber, she owned my ass last time.”

“Alright, it’ll be a little while, need to make sure everything’s running with it cold. You all try not to cause too much trouble in here.” He winked at them.

The arcade was full of mostly older games, like Tekken, and Mortal Kombat, PacMan, and some racer games. Others were lottery games, spin the wheel, or guess a number. The jackpots on most of these items were high. If you won enough tickets, you could select a prize from the back counter. 

There were cheap items like candies, pens, and gag gifts, then there were pictures of athletes, stuffed animals, and inflatable toys. The prized shelf contained a couple movies, some games, and above those were gaming systems, radios and tiny TVs that had been sitting up there, gathering dust.

Dean got out his wallet, paying Don for the rolls of tokens he’d handed him.

“Dean, I have money,” Castiel insisted, pulling his wallet out as well.

“You know how this goes.” Dean gently pushed his hand down.

“But Dean…” Castiel tried to counter. 

“Trying to argue with a Winchester?” Amber laughed, “And I thought you were supposed to be the smart one. Now come over here. It’s tradition to pick out your favorite prize before you go play. It’s good luck.” 

“Is that?” Castiel started as his eyes immediately zeroed in on a prize. 

“FUCK YES IT IS!!!” Sam finished a bit too loudly, “It’s Pokemon Red for Gameboy!!!!!!!!!” 

“Race you to it,” Castiel smiled. 

“You’re on,” Sam grinned. 

“SAM, DON’T SAY FUCK!” Dean chastised, as Sam and Castiel ran off to begin their ticket quest, and Amber came over to Dean.

“You know, they don’t have any Castiel Novaks on the top shelf,” she teased. 

“What a coincidence, I don’t have any of those either.” He led her to the Cyclone game, where a light spins around the circular board and whatever number you landed on that was how many tickets you received, “We’re just friends, Amber. And, what are you doing talking about hunting in front of him? You know he doesn’t know about that. Or anything else. It was hard enough to get him to even talk to me,” Dean ran his fingers through his hair as the machine spit out 9 tickets. Close. Not close enough.

“You know what I mean. You should just tell him already. So what top prize are you going for? Gonna win your sweetie a bear? And besides, it’s not like Cas knows what hunting even is.” 

Dean’s eyes drifted to the corner, where Castiel was kicking Sam’s ass at skee-ball before they moved on to a shooting game where Sam totally blew Castiel out of the water.

“You’ll see. You know I always win at these stupid games.” Of course he did. Because he’d grown up doing it. He thought maybe if he was good at this, it would earn them something, like when dad hustled pool. It wasn’t long before the machine started flashing rainbow lights, and spitting out 500 tickets at Dean. 

“Yeah,” Amber agreed, “You do.”

Dean grabbed one of the baskets by the counter, shoving the tickets in and moving onto the next game- a ball drop. After landing the first ball in the ‘1’ slot, and collecting his measly prize, he went to Castiel, who had moved to Pac Man. He nudged him, “Wanna race?” He pointed to the racing game next to Pac Man, remembering their early conversation, where Castiel had guessed these were his favorites. 

“Sure,” Castiel smiled. 

Castiel remembered their earlier conversation as well, but mostly he couldn’t stop thinking of Dean racing his car down some back country road at over 100 miles per hour before pulling off into the woods somewhere and throwing him down in the backseat.

Dean slid into the seat, putting tokens in for both of them, and selected the classic, badass underdog car, selecting his modifications, and waiting on Castiel to join him.Castiel chose a flashy red car. The race started and at the first turn Castiel went into the wall. 

“Come on Dean, you can totally win this,” Castiel said softly, literally on the edge of his seat in anticipation as his own screen flashed ‘Game Over’.

Dean had been thinking about teaching Castiel to drive for awhile now, and seeing the skill of losing the game in less than a minute made him rethink that, or, at least using Baby as a teaching mechanism. Dean revved up, leaning back in his seat like he was really some badass racing an actual car. In the first of ten laps, he’d passed half the cars, and by the third, he was neck and neck with the car in first place. He threw the car off a ramp, skidding in front of the car, and taking a sharp turn. By the last lap, there was little to no point, Dean had lapped every car at least once, and the machine flashed “HIGH SCORE”. He added another ‘WNCHSTR’ to a list of mostly ‘WNCHSTR’ scores, this one being number four on the list. The number two was someone called RacerX and a couple towards the bottom were other players.

Castiel smiled, “You don’t play many games, my ass.”

Dean looked taken aback, surprised to hear Castiel swear...not that he didn’t, just that it was rare enough. He smiled, “I don’t. Only on special occasions.” 

He switched the subject away from himself again as he caught Amber and Sam playing basketball out of the corner of his eye, “They’re never going to admit it.” Dean smiled. He knew Amber liked Sam for a fact. And he knew his brother enough to know that he felt the same. Amber was never shy, except when it came to admitting her feelings. 

“Who?” Castiel said, confused. 

“Sam and Amber….you didn’t notice?”

“They like each other?” Castiel mouthed, as if they could somehow possibly overhear.

Dean shrugged, “Amber likes Sam. Pretty sure Sam likes her too. Kind of sickeningly adorable. He’s probably gonna give up Pokemon Red and win her some stuffed animal. Eh…” he paused, “That’s a total lie...Sam wouldn’t give up Pokemon Red even if that redhead chick from the cartoon came out of the TV and asked him to. No way in hell he’ll get the tickets for the Game Boy and the game though, so you’ve got a good shot.”

“It’s hard to give up Pokemon Red. I probably won’t even get it til Christmas, since I have horrible luck,” Castiel agreed.  “Come on. Let’s play one of my favorites.” 

Castiel led Dean over to Dance Dance Revolution, a dancing game where you had four arrows that you stepped on as the arrows went up the screen. Castiel hopped up on the platform, adding tokens, moving his own difficulty to heavy, the highest setting, and adding mods for speed and accuracy, before he turned to Dean. 

“You’ve never played before have you?” he guessed.

He’d seen Amber play before, she was pretty good. It was totally not his thing. “Uh, Cas, I really can’t dance. You should have Amber play…” he started backing away from the machine.

“She’s playing with Sam. Come on Dean. I’ll even put you on beginner. Please?” he swallowed a lump in his throat before adding quickly, “For me?” 

Dean’s eyes widened in surprise at the use of words, as he looked away, “...fine.”  _ You’re goddamn irresistible, you know that? _

He climbed on the mat, planting his feet firmly in the middle. He was slightly bowlegged, and it always was a good excuse not to try dancing...then there was Cas and those blue eyes that could send him off a cliff.

“Spread your legs a bit,” Castiel said before he could take it back and turned bright red. “I mean stand on the side arrows. It makes it easier to hit the arrows if you use both legs.” 

Castiel began flipping through songs, trying to hide the crimson in his face. 

“Like this?” Dean asked, noticing the red in Castiel’s face and getting the balls to act on it, as he put his feet on the arrows like Castiel was posturing them.

Castiel heard the words, but they sounded so much more perverse as they rang in his head.  _ Like this?  _ Dean would ask before touching him. 

Castiel’s eyes went right between Dean’s legs before darting down to his shoes. 

“Yeah Dean, Like that.” Castiel said quietly as he selected  _ Saints Go Marching.  _

“Let’s D-D-R-!” The machine called out as the song began.

_ Was he just staring at my…?  _ Dean glanced down at his zipper before looking back up at Castiel’s eyes, swallowing a lump in his throat. He missed the first set of arrows. As slow as the arrows were going, Dean seemed to be off a couple seconds. It didn’t help that on his right, he could hear Castiel’s feet drumming across the arrows at lighting speed. 

Sam and Amber had stopped playing a shooting game to come watch. 

“Holy shit,” Sam said, a bit shocked, “He’s even better than you, Amber.” 

“Heavy takes mad skill,” Amber replied matter-of-factly, “Standard is hard enough for me.” 

The song finished and scores popped up. Dean received an E (complete and utter failure) and on Castiel’s side a AA, which was like an A++. Castiel took a minute to catch his breath while he flipped through the songlist again. “Does anything sound good Dean?” 

Dean shrugged. He wasn’t a very good loser, “Your game, you pick.” He wanted to get off the thing, he felt people staring at them- Cas for how good he was, and Dean for being bad at this like he was at just about everything else. 

“Here,” Cas offered, “I know you like Queen, so…”

He selected  _ We Are the Champions.  _

The song wasn’t Queen, it was some B-Rated wanna-be pop star botching Freddie Mercury’s classic and making it pop. They got halfway through the song before Dean’s bar was long depleted, and he hopped off the game, watching Castiel glide across the mat with his brother, and best friend.

“Did you tell him you can’t dance?” Amber whispered.

“Oh yeah,” Dean said, “I did. And then he pouted at me.”

“Can’t resist those baby blues?” Amber teased. 

Dean gave a half nod, looking away and blushing with a shrug.

“Shit, you’ve really got it bad don’t you, Dean? You’re probably thinking about him right now. Bending him over that machine and seeing if his hips can move as fast as those legs.” 

“Jesus, Amber,” Dean actually sounded offended, taking a joke way too seriously, “It’s not all about that. Not with him.” He walked away before Castiel finished the song, even, going back to the ticket-winning games.

The song finished up and Castiel’s eyes followed Dean as he left.  _ Did I do something to make him mad?  _

“I’ll play the last song with you,”Amber offered, hopping up on the platform. 

“Is Dean mad? At me?” Castiel asked. 

“Maybe at me for teasing him. But he just really hates dancing. I think he’s a little embarrassed.” 

“I should go talk to him.” 

The timer was running out on the game and Castiel let Amber choose the last song. 

“Come on. Let’s play first. You’re really good, and it’s the most fun you’ve had since you got here.” 

_ That’s because of Dean,  _ he thought. 

The two of them finished the song. Amber got an A and Castiel got another AA. He was trying to find Dean and catch his breath at the same time. Amber began playing Dance Dance Revolution by herself as Sam watched.  Castiel noticed Sam’s eyes were mostly glued to her breasts as they bounced with her dance steps. 

Castiel found a vending machine and bought the four of them drinks. He handed one to Sam and Amber, before he searched the crowd for Dean again, finding him cashing in the remainder of his tickets for some twizzlers and gummi bears.

“Hey, cashing in already?” Castiel asked, “I got you a Coke.” 

“Thanks,” he said, taking a drink. “Yeah, I get bored of arcade games pretty quickly. You wanna go play putt putt or something while we’re waiting on the track, leave those two alone for a bit?” He handed Cas one of the twizzlers.

“Sure. Let me cash in too,” he replied, shoving the twizzler in his mouth. 

“Dean, I’m sorry I made you play DDR. I didn’t mean to make you mad.” 

“You didn’t make me mad, Cas. I just suck at dancing. Not just on the game, either.”

He took Castiel’s tickets, and handed them to Don, who put the tickets through the ticket counter and  it spit out a receipt that read: 564. 

Pokemon Red was definitely not 564 tickets, so Cas went with a king size bag of Skittles, a bag of peanut M&M’s, a couple Air Heads, and a baggie full of fruity Tootsie Rolls and Now and Laters. He felt accomplished, even if it wasn’t Pokemon Red. 

Sam and Amber had found them and decided to cash in too. Amber had the worst luck of the four of them and only ended up with a baggie full of Jolly Ranchers and a few Pixie Sticks. Sam bought himself a bag of Sour Gummi Worms and a couple bags of chips, but he also bought a small stuffed Cheshire Cat and handed it to Amber. 

“Welcome home, Amber,” Sam smiled, shoving chips into his face. 

“Thanks Sam,” she said, blushing a bit, “You know Alice is like one of my favorites.” 

“I remembered,” Sam answered, “Come on. Don says the track’s ready.” 

“Aren’t you two just adorable?” Dean teased, opening the door for them all and getting blasted in the face with cold November air.

“Shut up Dean,” Amber hissed, blushing more. 

“What?” Sam called, already out the door and by the track, “Come on. You guys are slow.” 

Amber raced out, but Castiel pulled on Dean’s sleeve, “Before we go there’s something I have to tell you.” 

Dean’s heart stopped in his chest. The words hit him so hard he had lost himself in Castiel’s eyes, like a deer in the headlights, “Ye-” came out rough, and he cleared his throat, “Yeah, Cas?”

“I’ve never actually driven a Go-Kart, except on Mario Kart, but if it’s anything like the racing game….I mean….what if I crash?” 

Dean’s heart stopped pounding, but his chest still ached, “Oh, no worries, Cas. That’s what the bumpers are for. You wouldn’t be the first person to crash a Go Kart. Just take it slow. Gas is right, brake is left. Don’t use both feet, and steer in a circle. It’s fun. C’mon,” he offered him a smile.

“Alright. I trust you,.” he smiled back.  

They all got into Go-Karts and took off. Sam was in the lead for awhile, before Dean took the lead. Poor Castiel was just taking it slow trying not to wreck. 

“C’mon Cas, you’ve got it!” Dean said, flying past him at about four times his speed.

Castiel felt a little braver and sped up just a hair, still in time to finish last at the finish line. 

“Dean! I can’t believe it! I didn’t crash!” Castiel said excitedly. 

Sam snickered. 

“I see that,” Dean shot a glare at Sam before smiling, his hand reaching up without even thinking, combing down Castiel’s wind-blown hair. “I...uh...putt putt?” he recovered, withdrawing his hand. Amber was already back inside, playing more Dance Dance Revolution, and Sam followed. 

_ Oh my God he’s touching me,  _ Castiel thought, his heart racing.

“Sure,” Castiel said out loud, “Lead the way.” 

There was a window by the little putt-putt course, where Dean talked to Don, grabbing two putters, and two balls- a blue one and a yellow one, two tiny pencils, and scorecards. He wrote ‘DEAN’ in all capital letters, military style, on one, before writing ‘CASTIEL’ on the other. This was probably going to be it for the day, he noticed, glancing at the setting sun.

The first hole was standard. It was a short green with the hole right in the middle, “Wanna go first?”

“You can go first.” 

Dean took the blue golf ball, centering it and standing behind, aiming at the hole, and putting it. It circled the hole and spat out, he walked to it and nipped it the rest of the way in, writing a ‘2’ on ‘Hole One’. “Your turn.”

_ He remembered my favorite color is yellow,  _ Castiel’s heart fluttered. 

Castiel putted and the ball veered right bouncing off the wall. 

“Did I mention I’ve also never played putt-putt?” Castiel said after he missed on the second shot. 

“So, you’ve lived vicariously through books forever?” Dean laughed, coming up behind Cas. “You’re hitting it too hard.” Dean reached down, grabbing Cas’ hands, which were still wrapped around the putter, giving a few slow test putts, “See how gentle? If you hit the ball too hard, it’ll bounce back.” 

_ Oh God his arms are around me,  _ Castiel’s insides melted,  _ and I’m basically pressed against his... _

Dean looked as though he had a few more pointers that got lost to the wayside, “Cas, you’re cold.” Without anything further, he grabbed Cas’ putter, resting it against one of the wooden poles. He shrugged his leather jacket off his shoulders, holding it up for Castiel to step into, “Here.”

_ Oh my God. Is this happening right now? Did he really just say that?  _ Castiel thought. 

Castiel swallowed hard and where he normally would have protested until Dean practically forced him, he couldn’t let this moment slip away. He stepped into the coat and pulled the sleeves up.

_ It smells like him, like faded deodorant and cologne.  _ Castiel noticed,  _ Maybe he really does like me.  _

“Thanks Dean, you sure you’re not cold?” 

“I’m good. Here, let’s get this one putt in, and we’ll head back in, I don’t want you getting sick.” He grabbed the ball, and put it back at the beginning of the hole, “Come here, Cas.”

As Castiel walked over to Dean, he put his hands in his pockets. He felt a box in one of them and went to hand it to Dean without really bothering to look at it.  

“Oh, Dean, you left something in your pocket.”

“Actually,” Dean smirked.  _ God, he looks so sexy in my jacket, even though it’s so big on him...want him to wear it around all the time, want him to be mine… _ “Think that’s yours.”

Castiel turned the box over and nearly screamed as he tackled Dean in a hug. He was the new owner of Pokemon Red. 

“Dean are you serious? I can’t believe it! Thank you! Thank you so much!”

Amber and Sam had come outside to see what the  commotion had been about, but they kept their distance. 

“You sure they’re not dating?” Amber smiled. 

Dean couldn’t help it. His arms wrapped around Castiel, holding him there, in their hug, his nose against his hair, breathing in the scent of fresh linens, and some sort of shampoo. It was cold outside, but he was warm, and he didn’t want to let go. He was enveloped in something he’d never had, and something that he so desperately wanted. Castiel could easily become ‘home’. It was too long for a thank you hug, too long for friends to hug, and still, Dean didn’t let go.

_ He’s not letting me go,  _ Castiel’s mind raced,  _ Does he want me to let him go?  _ _ I don’t want him to let me go. He feels so good _

Dean’s heart fluttered,  _ I want to kiss you, Castiel. _

“How come you didn’t give Pokemon Red to me?” Sam asked bitterly, coming over to them and taking a closer look at the game on the ground, flipping it over and reading the back. 

Dean’s fingers lingered on his own leather jacket as he pulled away from Castiel, snatching the game back and handing it to its rightful owner, “Because you don’t have a Game Boy, brat.”

Castiel half smiled. He’d been so wrapped up in wrapping his arms around Dean he hadn’t even noticed he’d dropped the game entirely. He could still smell Dean on the leather jacket. “I’ll let you borrow it some time Sam, Game Boy and all.” 

“Really? That’d be awesome,” Sam said, giving Castiel a high five. 

“We should get going. It’s getting cold out. Who the hell knows, it might start snowing soon.” Dean looked up at the sky with a smile. He wasn’t eager to leave Castiel behind; but he was curious as to what news dad had to give him, impatient that, as always, this happiness wouldn’t last. “We can come back soon, after Cas gets some time behind the wheel,” he added. “Then he might kick all our asses.”

“Not really. I don’t stand a chance,” Cas shook his head. 

“You’ll be learning from the best,” Dean grinned, opening the door to the arcade for them all.

“That was a lot of fun, guys,” Castiel said, as they walked to the car, “Thanks again for inviting me.” 

“Anytime, Castiel,” Amber said with a smile, “Like I said, you’re practically family.” 

Dean got in the car, starting her up and ejecting the tape. Something about the night made him feel less insecure of the things he did only for Castiel. He started singing loud,

_ “-I can't hide... _

_ Yeah you’ve got that somethin’, _

_ I think you’ll understand. _

_ When I’ll say that something- _

_ I wanna hold your hand…” _

Castiel blushed a bit as he thought,  _ I want to hold your hand too, Dean.  _ He was lost in thought the whole ride home, distracted by Dean’s sexy singing voice. He was quarreling with himself over a huge dilemma. To give back the jacket or keep it. 

As they pulled up to Castiel’s house, he decided it wouldn’t hurt to keep it.  _ Just for tonight. I’ll say I forgot it by accident.  _

“See ya tomorrow guys. Thanks again, Dean, for everything!” Castiel said, getting out of the car a bit quicker than normal. He felt victorious as he walked up to the front door, waving back at the Impala as he reached the porch _. I’m wearing his jacket.  _

“You do realize he’s still wearing your jacket right?” Amber asked. 

It was a small victory, but Dean would take the win. “Yep,” he said with a smirk. He’d realized all along.

 

* * *

 

The trailer was quiet. Dean didn’t know what he was expecting...dad, maybe. In dad’s place was an envelope stuffed with dirty gambling money. The only other thing that was left was a couple cassette tapes that dad must’ve got sick of hearing:  _ Aerosmith and KISS.  _

Dean sighed, setting the keys on the counter, and kicking his shoes off towards the door. He didn’t know why, after all these years, dad’s absence was still disappointing.

Sam was unaffected. Per usual, he hopped on the Nintendo, shoveling left over gummy worms in his mouth.

“Some things never change,” Amber offered with a shrug. 

“This family never changes.” Dean tugged off his layer of flannel, tossing it on the chair by the kitchen table they never ate at, “It’s good to have you home though.” And, although he wouldn’t admit it, it was a relief that dad hadn’t dropped Amber off and taken him to Indiana instead. Dean reached above the fridge, grabbing two of dad’s beers, cracking his open and handing Amber one.

“Good to be home,” she said, clinking her can to Dean’s. She couldn’t take her eyes off of Sam, “Sometimes change is good. Like with you and Cas. I mean, seriously. The way you two are, how are you not together yet? I’m sorry about earlier by the way. I didn’t mean that was the only thing on your mind. I know how much you care about him.” 

“We’re not together yet because we’re probably never going to be together, Amber. It’s different than you and Sam,” he dropped his tone. Sam had a habit of hearing his name mentioned from a mile away, “It’s hard to know whether he’s...y’know. Like that.” 

Dean ran his fingers through his hair, “In the beginning, I didn’t know I’d have these kinds of feelings for him. Now I’m afraid to lose him, even as a friend. He’s amazing, Amber….he’s this fucking amazing guy...and I don’t know how I could ever even…”

“It’s hard to tell a friend. Believe me. I know. You don’t want to lose them. But...did you even see how happy he was? I’ve never seen Castiel Novak like that. Ever. That’s because of you Dean. You know, from our phone calls I would have never guessed it was like this. That you two were so close. But damn. And you gotta think, if it weren’t for Sam, how long would that hug have lasted? He wasn’t pushing you away then was he? Hmmm?” 

“I’m gonna fuck it up,” he said, still talking to Amber even as he walked to his room, plopping on his bed and staring up at the ceiling, “All I could think about when he was hugging me was how bad I wanted to kiss him and wondering whether he’d go with it, or if he’d shove me away. He’s probably got a crush on some girl in one of his classes. Y’know, Straight A’s, a future, that shit. I don’t know if I can just be his friend.”

Amber plopped on the bed beside Dean. “You’re not going to fuck it up Dean. At least not if you don’t ever give it a chance.” 

“The hug doesn’t mean anything. Not really. Sam’s been talking about that game for months. If someone bought me a vintage Gibson, I’d probably hug them too.” He chugged down the rest of the beer. “You didn’t tell me much about the hunt...just that dad almost got his ass whipped by some Djinn. You know he hates those fuckers. Like to bring mom back.”

“Not much to talk about. Rather talk about more pleasant things. Like you and Cas. I’ve never seen you this happy either, ya know?”  

“Try not to remind me,” he said, pulling her close, like they were still kids, “Happy doesn’t last. It never does.”

 

* * *

Castiel paced around his room in Dean’s leather jacket for awhile, before he picked up the phone and dialed Balthazar’s number. 

There was loud, classical music playing in the background, “Cassie?”

“Balthazar, can we talk? Are you busy?” 

“Never too busy for you, love.” Rustling could be heard on the other end, and the music in the background stopped, “Is something the matter?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I just have to talk to somebody about this, and you’re the only one.”

Balthazar sounded puzzled on the other end, “All right…” 

“I think I’m in love.” Castiel blurted.

“I knew my devilish charms would get to you eventually,” Balthazar chuckled, “Seriously? Who?” 

“Dean. Dean Winchester,” his face went crimson with the words. 

“Dean Winchester?” Balthazar repeated blankly on the other end of the phone.

“Balthazar. He gave me his leather jacket. I’m still wearing it. Right now.” 

There was static on the other end for a moment,  “Are you dating him? I didn’t even realize he was gay. I mean, there are the rumors on the football team, of course.” And of course, Balthazar would know them. He had ‘friends’ on the football team, that were probably a lot more rumor-worthy than Dean Winchester.

“No, we’re not dating. He just gave me his jacket because I was cold. And I don’t know if he’s gay. That’s the problem. I mean how can you tell, without asking?”

“Cassie,” Balthazar said, hesitantly, “This is bloody Dean Winchester we’re talking about here, you know, leather and I-don’t-give-a-fuck Dean Winchester? D’you really think he’s the best person for you- even if he is gay? Isn’t he dating Anna? How did this even happen?” there was an obvious defensive tone to Balthazar’s questioning that Castiel was too happy to pick up on. 

“I don’t know. It just did. Gradually over time, the more I got to know him. And it just hit me today. That I’m in love with him. I’m in love with Dean.” 

It was obvious from Balthazar’s silence that he wasn’t a fan of the idea. He sighed, “Then tell him, Cassie. That’s the only way to know. But, I don’t want you to get hurt. You know I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know you don’t, Balthazar. You care a lot about me. It’s just that I’m afraid. What if I tell him and it ruins our friendship?” 

“Well…” there was more silence, “That’s a chance you either take or you don’t. It can be shitty either way. If you don’t tell him, the feelings will still be there, and one day you’ll watch him really fall in love with someone, and it’ll hurt like hell. The other way, he doesn’t return your feelings and if he leaves, he never deserved them to begin with. Of course, the optimist would say there’s the chance he feels the same. He’d be a lucky guy, Cassie.”

“Do you really think so? That he might feel the same way?” 

Butterflies swarmed in Castiel’s stomach. 

“I don’t know, Cassie. Maybe. He was bothering you in study hall for a long time. I don’t know Dean Winchester. I don’t particularly like Dean Winchester...but it doesn’t matter, as long as you’re happy. I just want you to be happy, love.”

“I am happy. This is the happiest I’ve been since...ever. I didn’t even tell you the part where he got me Pokemon Red. And I hugged him. For like a really long time.” 

“Better watch out Cassie, you know where hugging leads,” Balthazar teased.

“To kissing,” he said, breathlessly, lying back on the bed, “I want to kiss him so bad Balthazar. My first real kiss.” 

“Are there the not-real kisses I don’t know about?” Balthazar accused.

“Balthazar, you know what I mean,” Castiel laughed. 

“Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Have you met me? It’s practically my middle name.” 

There was silence on the other end, “I worry.”

“Balthazar,” Castiel said, his tone turning more serious, “You really don’t have to worry.” 

Balthazar sighed, changing the subject, “I wish you could have come with me to New York. Dad and I saw ‘Cats’ on Broadway tonight. You would have loved it.”

“I’m glad you’re having fun, but I wouldn’t have missed tonight for anything in the world.” 

 

* * *

 

“FUCK YOU SAM!” 

Dean had given up on his cassette player, which was playing the Aerosmith tape dad had left. Any time Sam and Amber got to playing Mario Kart, there was no drowning it out. Dean didn’t bother reminding them that they had school tomorrow.

He was almost asleep between video game feuds when the phone startled him awake. He grabbed it. Dad had told him to always keep the cordless beside his bed just in case. He knew today was too good to last. His heart was racing as he answered, “Hello?”

“Dean,” Castiel whispered, “I didn’t wake you up did I?” 

He lurched up out of bed. “Cas? No. I was awake. What’s up? Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m ok. I’m just trying to be quiet. I’m not really supposed to be on the phone this late.” 

Castiel had changed into a pair of pajama pants and a tshirt, but he was still wearing the leather jacket as he laid in bed. He wasn’t sure what had come over him that made him think it was a good idea to call Dean in the middle of the night. Now his heart was hammering, begging him to just hang up. Give up. 

_ I have to tell you that I’m in love with you,  _ Castiel thought.

“I just thought I’d call to check and see how you’re doing. I know it’s late. I’m sorry.” 

“No, I don’t mind. Can’t sleep?” Dean asked, a little more quietly as he slipped back into bed and rolled on his side, leaving space in the bed for a body that wasn’t occupying it, he closed his eyes and talked to Cas like he was in the space, as he grabbed a spare pillow.

“No, I can’t sleep. How about you? Are you usually up this late?” 

He laughed a little into the receiver, “Sam and Amber are playing Mario Kart, it gets pretty loud. I was listening to Aerosmith.” He pressed play on the cassette player and held the worn out headphones against the phone, “Can you hear it?”

 

_ I go crazy, crazy baby, I go crazy, _

_ You turn it on, then you're gone... _

_ Yeah, you drive me crazy, crazy, crazy for you baby, _

_ What can I do, honey? I feel like the color blue… _

 

“Yeah, I hear it, Dean,” Castiel said running his fingers along the leather. 

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Dean. I had a lot of fun with you today.” 

“Me too. Did you start your game?”

“I had to write that paper for English class.” 

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you out so late,” he chuckled.

“It’s ok. Dean...I have to tell you something.”

“Yeah, Cas?” he clutched the phone tight in his hand. Any more ‘I have to tell you something’s today and he might have a heart attack.

“I just wanted to say,”  _ Fuck I can’t do it,  _ “I mean I just wanted to tell you that our project in History is due next Friday.”

_ Really? That’s what you wanted to tell me?  _ He sighed softly against the phone, “The timeline? I finished it today while you were gone. I know, miracles do happen.”

“Wait. You’re done already? Before me?” 

“I guess so. Finished my Algebra worksheet, too.”

“You’ve been doing so much better, Dean. I’m really proud of you.” 

He felt his cheeks heat up, “Because of you.”

“No. It’s all you Dean.” 

It was so easy to talk to each other, that the minutes ticking away felt like nothing until 

Castiel had fallen asleep with the phone still pressed to his ear, leather jacket and all, snoring lightly.

Dean smiled, tracing his fingers along the phone, listening to the gentle sounds for a few minutes before he could be certain that Castiel was actually asleep. It wouldn’t be long before sleep took him away, too. 

His fingers stopped tracing the phone, and he looked at it, his heart pounding in his chest, as he let the words slip out freely into the receiver, “Good night, beautiful.”

He fell asleep without trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs featured in this chapter:  
> Dust in the Wind- Kansas  
> Cherry Pie- Warrant  
> Saints Go Marching- The Saint (for DDRExtreme)  
> We Are the Champions- Original by Queen, DDRExtreme Mix by Live 2 Love  
> Hold Your Hand- The Beatles  
> Crazy- Aerosmith


	3. Constellation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even as the seasons change, and winter is upon them, things are beginning to heat up between Dean and Castiel. After getting caught in the rain, Dean finds himself sleeping over, and sharing more than just secrets...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving ever so slowly. More fluff this chapter...some skeletons are starting to peek out of the closet.  
> Mild(ish) sexual content.  
> Lots of Buffy references...we're aware that the show air date is a bit off...tried to make everything as time accurate as possible, but for story purposes, some things get tweaked.  
> Enjoy. Please comment thoughts below. <3

* * *

* * *

 

_ November 17, 1998 _

 

This wasn’t exactly what Castiel had in mind when Dean had said he’d give him more time behind the wheel.

“You’re doing real good, Cas, seriously,” Dean gloated at his...his something, who was nervously sitting behind the wheel of the Impala. “Aw, shit, it’s starting to rain.”  _ Twenty percent chance of showers, my ass.  _ Dean leaned over, turning the windshield wipers on for Castiel so that he could better focus. “Turn here. Your house is right up there, just pull in front like I usually do.”

_ Your house is right there? God. He knows where his house is, Dean. _ Why did it have to rain? If they could just get in a little bit more time before dark, then Dean could keep absently running his fingers through Castiel’s dark, messy hair while he was otherwise preoccupied with the road. Dean’s fingers twitched longingly at the thought, brushing the small hairs on the back of Castiel’s neck.

_ He’s touching me,  _ Castiel thought, as his heart pounded in his chest,  _ I don’t want him to stop touching me. I need you, Dean. I need you so much. Focus. I’m driving. An actual car. For the first time ever. Oh God, what if I crash his dad’s car? What if I wreck it into my mom’s van?  _

“Dean, I’m afraid to park in the drive. I’m scared I’ll hit my mom’s van. Can I park at the curb?” he asked, his voice shaking, as well as his hands on the steering wheel. 

“I mean, you could, technically,” Dean said, half-frowning, “But, you’ll have to learn to park sometime. Here, stop for a sec.” He didn’t trust Castiel’s driving enough to think he wouldn’t freak out if he’d climbed over the center console while he’d still been inching down the road at under 20. As the Impala halted mid-road, Dean’s legs swung over the center of the car and he climbed into the back seat, getting adjusted before taking Castiel’s hands into his as he leaned over, “Alright, let’s do this.”

“Dean. It’s my mom’s van. More importantly, it’s your dad’s car, his Baby. This is a bad idea. What if I crash through the garage?” Castiel’s words and mind were panicked, but his stomach flipped at Dean’s hands warm on top of his own. 

“We’re not parking in the garage, just out front. Breathe, Cas. Okay, there’s a car coming up, so let’s just drive down the last little bit.”

“Oh God, Dean, there’s a car coming? What do I do?” 

“Yes, Cas, there are cars on the road,” he couldn’t help but snicker. It may have been the most adorable thing he’d ever heard, “You just keep driving.”

“Oh, right. I knew that.” 

Dean was relieved when the car turned down the street over. “Okay, so here we go, moment of truth. Just look into the side view passenger mirror here, and watch the curb.”

Even Dean couldn’t distract Castiel from the panic in his chest. 

“Dean. I’m scared.” 

“Just keep looking in the mirror, ease into it, I’ve got you.” It was true, Dean’s hands were on Castiel’s, steering the car, “Trust me, I’ve got you. Swing out just a little,” Dean’s hands guided him.

“I trust you, Dean,” he whispered softly. His hands still shaking beneath Dean’s even though his stomach was filling with butterflies. 

“Good job! See, you’ve got it!” The rain was starting to pick up a little, “Slow down, we’re gonna pull behind your mom’s van.”

Dean laughed with triumph as the Impala pulled a touch away from the curb and a good bit away from the new van that Mrs. Novak had bought a couple months ago.

He breathed a sigh of relief, resting his head both on the headrest of the car, and on Castiel’s shoulder, arms relaxing over Cas’. He was so warm.

Castiel let out a deep breath as he turned the car off before melting into the seat. His muscles were tense. He couldn’t take the keys out of the ignition fast enough to hand them to Dean. He finally registered just how close Dean was and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. 

_ Please, Dean, just kiss me.  _

Their momentary stasis was interrupted by the rain beginning to pelt down on the car, hard. Dean pocketed the keys to Baby, before climbing back into the passenger seat, before turning back to Castiel, his heart hammering. He’d known he was going to ask tonight, the rain seemed as good an excuse as any, “D’you think your parents would mind if I stayed over tonight? I don’t think this is going to let up for awhile.”

Castiel’s heart nearly stopped. “I don’t see why not,” he offered, before the realization sank in that his parents might not go for having their daughter’s boyfriend stay the night. 

_ I hope he doesn’t just want to stay to spend time with Anna,  _ Castiel’s heart dropped a little with the thought. 

“Awesome,” he said, grinning playfully. “Well, guess now’s a good as time as any…” he said, before leaping from the car and howling as the cold November rain pelted him. The wind had picked up too, causing Dean to cringe as it slammed the Impala door shut behind him. 

He ran to the other side, drenched already from head to toe as he yanked the driver side door open. He gave Cas just enough time to grab his backpack before he yanked off his varsity jacket and engulfed Castiel in it as he pulled him out of the car and into the torrential downpour. “Run for it,” Dean yelled, grabbing Cas’ arm, as well as his football bag, and bolting towards the front porch.

Castiel’s teeth were chattering, even with Dean’s jacket, as they ran for the door. 

Dean began to laugh, pulling Castiel along. When they got to the porch, the front door swung open almost instantly, Mrs. Novak ushering both of them in with warm towels, looking them up and down as she handed a towel to each of them, “Shoes off, boys.”

Dean looked to his feet, where his shoes were waterlogged. What Dean’s jacket had spared of Castiel did not include his shoes, and they’d already tracked mud in. “Sorry, Mrs. Novak,” Dean said as he slipped his shoes and socks off, leaving them at the door and looking at Castiel with about as much concern as his own mother was.

Dean’s jacket really had kept most of him dry, save for the sloshing shoes, wet hair, and rain speckled glasses.

Dean was another matter entirely, soaked from head to toe, Zeppelin shirt clinging tightly to his skin, his jeans sploshing any time he’d make a move.

He still wasn’t used to Mrs. Novak’s...what was it dad called it….? Helicopter parenting. It was a nice change to find a warm towel on him, her worried mother tone coming out. “You boys are soaking wet,” she frowned, “Here, Dean, I’ll get this dried for you.” She grabbed the jacket, folding it in her arms, “Go upstairs and get changed, and I’ll bring you some hot chocolate.”

Dean could barely remember a time where he’d heard such a tone in regards to him. His mother used to put him in the bath after he’d played in the rain. Used to sit in there while he played with boats, and toys in the bubbles...and she used to sing. It was nice that Castiel had that, too. He deserved that.

He followed Castiel upstairs, drying his hair with the towel as they went. It felt nice, like one of those you get at a fancy hotel- soft and plush.

Castiel opened the door to his room. There were books, binders, and notebooks piled on the desk. There weren’t any posters on the wall, but there was a bulletin board that had pictures stuck in it, mostly of Dean, Sam, and Balthazar, and his mom and dad, Anna had X’s on her eyes or devil horns. Also there was a calendar and some sticky notes. The unmade bed had a plain blue comforter on it, that Castiel had had for years, and to his horror, he noticed he’d left Dean’s leather jacket in bed with him. 

Castiel quickly grabbed up the leather jacket and  laid it across the back of the desk chair. 

“It was cold out this morning and I forgot my jacket. I mean your jacket. Which I keep forgetting to give you, by the way. I’m sorry again,” Castiel said, blushing a bit as he made the bed. “And I’m also sorry about the mess, I didn’t know I would have company or I might have picked up a bit”

“It’s alright,” Dean said, out of Castiel’s view, peeling off his soaking shirt and laying it on the vent of Castiel’s windowsill, “You can wear it, you know. Looked good on you. I have another one.” The hairs on Dean’s arms stood up when the metal of the necklace Sam had given him several Christmases ago hit his chest.  _ Fucking hell, that’s cold.  _ “Speaking of...I don’t suppose you have anything that would fit me?” He’d moved to the button of his pants.

Castiel turned around and saw Dean, half naked in his room, like he’d dreamt a hundred times. He had more freckles on his shoulders, a few scars, a slight patch of fair hair that lead from his belly button down beneath the hem of his pants. And those muscles... _ God. _

_ Fuck, he’s sexy. I just want him to hold me in those arms.  _ Castiel thought, realizing that he was staring and turning bright crimson in the face, “Yeah, I’ll find something,” he said, gladly burying his face in the closet so Dean couldn’t see how red he was. 

Dean tugged off his pants, and set them over his shirt, wrapping his arms around himself to keep a bit warm. His boxer-briefs were damp, too, clinging a bit too tightly...but he’d have to deal with that. He wasn’t going to give that much of a show, not without knowing how Cas felt. Thank god he was cold, though. The thought that maybe, just maybe, Castiel had been holding onto that jacket as he slept...or even as he…

Dean blushed, “You should probably change, too, Cas...don’t want you getting sick.”

_ Shit. Did I just ask him to get naked for me? Fuck. _

“Alright. Here. These should fit,” Castiel said, before blushing harder as he turned around. He was staring again. This time at the bulge in Dean’s boxers.  _ Fuck, he’s huge. And I’m totally staring again.  _

He looked back down, handing Dean a pair of sweatpants, an extra large t-shirt,  and a pair of boxer-briefs. 

“My mom just bought them. So they’re brand new. And the shirt’s my dad’s. I use it to mow the lawn in. So it should be big enough.” 

He turned back to the closet, away from Dean, and started peeling his own clothes off. 

Dean’s eyes were fixed on Castiel, trailing his bare skin. His fingers twitched, wanting to touch. He needed him from the most basic and innocent way, to the farthest thing from.

Dean put the rest of the clothes on the desk, as he pulled the shirt over his head. “You’re smaller than me,” he couldn’t help staring at Castiel’s hips, hoping he didn’t get caught doing just that, “I can sleep in mine, they aren’t that wet, it’s ok.”

His stomach jumped at the thought of something of Castiel’s rubbing against him. Or better...sliding the cottony fabric off of Cas’ hips, leaving a pair of boxer-briefs just like these in a pile on the floor. He felt his cock stir, and even as his eyes remained on Cas, he slipped into the newly made bed, under the covers.  _ I just want to lay him back on this bed and kiss him until he can’t breathe. Want to touch him, want to make him want me… _

He whimpered at the state his cock was in now, pushing it down, and feeling a droplet of precome slide down.  _ Fuck…. _

This wasn’t one of his fantasies where he could indulge. This was real, and real Cas didn’t want this, didn’t want him like this.

Castiel pulled on a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt.  _ Dean Winchester is laying in my bed, right now.  _ That was the only thought that kept repeating itself in Castiel’s mind.  _ Words. You should speak them. Stop staring and say something.  _

“Did you get your History homework done yet?” Castiel asked. 

Dean shook his head, “No, my dad called when I was working on it, I got a bit di-”

There was a knock at the door before Mrs. Novak came in, bearing steaming cups of hot chocolate, along with apple pie. The scent of apples, chocolate and cinnamon soon permeated the entire room, “Wow, that looks amazing, Mrs. Novak,” Dean smiled.

“I remembered pie was your favorite, Dean,” she looked pleased.

Apple Pie  _ was _ Dean’s favorite, and he took it gratefully. She’d warmed it up. Being around Cas’ mom made Dean feel safe. It wasn’t that John Winchester made his son feel anything but- kinda hard not to feel safe with salt at every entrance and an arsenal of guns never far- however; this was different. Motherly. Right down to the flowered apron and pinned up hair.

“Thank you,” Dean replied. 

She rest her hand on his shoulder, smiling, “You’re welcome sweetheart.” He’d seen her be so affectionate to Cas so many times, but, when she did it to him, it struck a chord. There was something deep inside the vaults and inner workings of Dean Winchester that pled with the heaven he no longer believed in for a mother- this nurturing, this loving.

Dean’s happy place was interrupted as she turned conversation to Cas, “Castiel, is that one of dad’s old shirts? I could find something warmer, Dean.”

_ No. No, Cas gave this to me _ , “This is fine, Mrs. Novak, don’t worry.”

“Mom, is it ok if Dean stays the night? I mean... the storm doesn’t look like it’s letting up anytime soon,” Castiel asked, taking a sip of hot chocolate and getting whipped cream on his top lip. 

She only looked hesitant for a minute, “I don’t see why not. Just make sure you’re in bed at a decent hour, you both have school in the morning. And don’t be too loud, dad has work early tomorrow. Speaking of which, do you need to call your dad, Dean?”

“Just my brother, let him know he’s on his own tonight,” Dean smiled, “Thank you again, Mrs. Novak.”

“Of course, I insist. But, if you’re staying over, Dean, why don’t you go ahead and take a shower, that way you don’t get sick...You too, Castiel... _ before _ Buffy.”

Try as Dean may, he couldn’t help the thought of he and Cas both in the shower, pushing him against the wall. He was brought back to reality with one thought… 

“Buffy? You watch  _ Buffy _ ?” Dean groaned.  _ Sam  _ watched Buffy… he’d turned the show on TV one night looking for something to watch, and they hadn’t gotten into a full episode before his dad had switched it off, muttering under his breath about how much of a disgrace the show was to hunters, and how fucking stupid it was, and that ‘that blonde bitch wouldn’t recognize a  _ real _ vamp if it had its fangs in her throat.’

Of course, that hadn’t stopped Sammy, who had the theme song memorized by heart, and faithfully tuned in every Tuesday dad was away (which was most of them), while Dean retreated into his room to avoid it. He never understood why Sam was infatuated with a show that made a mockery of them, what they were- and made light of the monsters they hunted.

“Alright, well, looks like a good time for me to slip out of here.” Her look hardened to that of a mother giving a direct order, “ _ Showers _ ,” she reminded them. “Phone’s downstairs, Dean, when you call your brother. Just make yourself at home, sweetheart. Here, give me your clothes, I’ll get them washed and dried.”

Dean froze, and before he could react Castiel handed over Dean’s clothes to his mom. 

“Thanks mom, you’re the best,” Castiel smiled. 

“You really are, Mrs. Novak,” Dean agreed.

She was beaming as she left the room.

“Seriously,  _ Buffy _ , Cas?” 

Dean felt disappointment. Cas was one of  _ those _ . One of those who glorified hunters, completely oblivious to the reality of what  _ really _ went bump in the night. Dean couldn’t blame him. He was thankful that some people had gotten to grow up ignorant of vamps, shifters, demons, the lot. Maybe what truly upset him was the nagging thought in the back of his head.  _ If that’s your idea of a hero...I could be your hero, Cas. _

He’d never be Castiel’s hero, because Castiel would never know. It just seemed like those two worlds were never meant to meet. Dad could never know he was gay, and Castiel could never know he was a hunter. They were sad parallels on the road he was walking.

“We don’t have to watch it if you don’t want to,” Castiel offered, “If it’s not your thing.” 

“We can,” Dean said, defeatedly, still not entirely sure even as he said it if it sounded the remotest bit convincing, “I mean, you’ve let me pick everything so far- right? Even if it wasn’t your cup of…” he smiled, reaching out to touch Castiel’s face, his thumb brushing across his upper lip, “....cocoa. You had whipped cream on your face.”

Castiel’s heart pounded. He was so embarrassed. “Thanks, Dean. It’s my favorite. The show, not the cocoa, although it is really good cocoa. Here, you go ahead and take the first shower.” 

“Should I use the downstairs bathroom or the one up here?”

“Either. Anna and I share the upstairs bathroom, but she's pretty much taken it over.” 

Castiel couldn't help wondering what Dean would look like naked. Although there wasn’t much left to the imagination. 

“You use the upstairs bathroom?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” Castiel replied, with a smile, “You can use my stuff if you want. Unless you want to smell like Anna’s.”

“Nah, I’ll use yours,” he said with a smile. “I guess I’ll be back.”

Dean understood what Castiel meant when he walked into the shared bathroom. It was big enough that Castiel should have had his own space, but didn’t. 

On the back of Anna’s bedroom door hung a huge pink and plastic makeup organizer, which had apparently not been enough, as makeup had spilled over onto the dual-vanity all the way into Castiel’s side.

The border of ‘Anna’ and ‘Castiel’ was just a couple inches of space off to the left of the sink where a comb, a toothbrush, deodorant, and toothpaste sat clustered together, trying to stay out of Anna’s way- much like Castiel himself did.

Even Anna’s towels, which were pink and purple, hung on the towel racks on Castiel’s side. There was one dark blue towel hanging over the shower. Dean pulled it down, folding it and placing it on Castiel’s side of the sink. 

Opening the cabinet, Dean pulled out one of the dark blue towels, setting it aside before turning on the shower. He locked both sets of doors before peeling off his boxers and setting them on top of his towel. He was still half-hard from earlier.

Climbing into the shower, Dean was greeted by a nice strong jet of hot water, which made his muscles instantly relax. He shivered as his body began warming up. 

His eyes darted the sides of the shower, loaded with scented shower gels and soaps and bubble bath, shampoos, conditioners, and oils. He turned around, again, finding Castiel’s things buried into a corner: a bottle of TRESemme shampoo, a bottle of body wash, and a razor.  _ Does he shave...there…?  _ Dean gulped, looking down at his own trimmed hairs,  _ Should I? _

As soon as he opened the bottle of shampoo, dabbing it in his hands, he recognized the smell, instantly relaxing. It was the smell of hugging Castiel- of being so close to him that he could smell this, his hair. He massaged it into his own hair, lost in thought of being close to Cas, running his fingers through his hair... _ pulling _ …

He shoved that thought aside, and began rinsing, striking up in song, 

 

_ Just a small town girl- _

_ Living in a lonely world… _

_ She took the midnight train goin’ anywhere…… _

 

* * *

 

“Is that  _ Dean? _ ” Anna huffed, marching into Castiel’s room.

“Knocking, remember? We’ve talked about this,” Castiel said as politely as possible, “Yes, Dean’s taking a shower.” 

Anna rolled her eyes, knocking on Castiel’s wall, “What is  _ my _ boyfriend doing in my  _ shower _ ?”

_ “Ba-daaa-” _ Dean wailed, like he were a human guitar  _ “A singer in a smoky room...the smell of wine and cheap perfume….” _

“He’s spending the night,” Castiel answered, “It’s storming out there.” 

_ In my room,  _ Castiel thought,  _ His voice really is beautiful.  _

“Like hell he’s staying in here with you…” Anna crossed her arms, “God, he has such awful taste in music.”

“I like it. I think he has a great voice. And there’s no way in hell mom is letting him stay with you. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“Oh my god, Castiel,” Anna laughed, “You think he’s actually here for  _ you _ ? He’s probably just staying with you because he feels sorry for you...that and to sneak into my room in the middle of the night. He’s such a rebel.”

“I think he’s here because of the rain,” Castiel said, blushing a bit at the thought that maybe Dean could be here for him. He couldn’t stand the thought of Dean sneaking into Anna’s room. It made him sick. 

“You think he’s here because he likes you? That you’re friends? Maybe I should tell him what you really think about him...then you wouldn’t get to have your gross little fantasy about sleeping in the same bed as him. I see the way you look at him, freak. Don’t think I don’t know whose leather jacket that is, Castiel...I wore it before you ever did, and that’s because he gave it to me after the game.”

Castiel was turning red in the face both from embarrassment and anger. “Just get out of my room, Anna.” 

“Even if the rumors were true, little brother,” she spoke the words with such hatred it was almost unfathomable, “About Dean, which I assure you,” she smiled sweetly, “They’re not. Trust me, I know….it would never be you. Do you understand me, Castiel? Dean Winchester would be attracted to  _ anyone _ else before he was attracted to you.”

The shower squeaked off in the bathroom.

“Dean deserves so much better than you. Now I said get the hell out of my room, you fucking bitch,” Castiel spat, his voice raising. 

_ Get out of here you lying bitch,  _ Castiel thought with venom, wishing more than ever that he were an only child. 

“What did you just call me?” Anna looked appalled, “I’m gonna tell him, Castiel. I’m going to tell him what a fucking freak you are. God, I wish you would have done it! I wish you would have-”

“Anna Marie Novak!” Mrs. Novak stood in the doorway, just as Dean opened the door to the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, hair spiked from the water, the amulet around his neck sending droplets of water down to his stomach. “You are grounded. Go to your room. Right. Now. Bring me the cordless. NOW.”

“Mom, he….”  
“NOW.”

Anna scoffed, obviously humiliated, “YOU RUIN EVERYTHING. I HATE YOU.” She spat at Castiel.

Dean’s eyes widened. He’d never seen Castiel’s mom looking so upset, ever.

Castiel’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t believe that Anna hated him that much. He just stood there unsure of what to say, how much either of them had heard, looking between his mother and what he wished was  _ his _ boyfriend. He didn’t know what to say. 

“Anna, go to your room. You’re not going over to Tiffany’s tonight. I told you to get me the cordless...now.” Castiel’s mother’s voice was cold, and she turned, almost helplessly to Castiel, as if reaching for something to say.

Anna stomped off, “Fine.”

“Dean, I’m sorry that you…”

“It’s really…” he went to say all right, “It’s not alright. I’m sorry, I only caught the end of it, I should have…”

“Please just stay away from her tonight. She thinks that she can just get her way. So I’m asking out of respect for my wishes that you leave her alone.”

_ Already planned on it.  _ “Yes, of course, ma’am...I was spending the night with Cas, anyway.” he tried to offer a smile.

“Dean,” she smiled, breathing a sigh of relief before turning back to Castiel,  “Castiel. I heard what you said, too. I don’t ever want to hear that language from you again, understood?” She seemed exasperated, like she wanted to cry or reach out for Castiel, and Dean couldn’t begin to place why. It was just a fight. There must be something that he was missing.

He’d been washing when he heard ‘Dean deserves so much better than you’...so very little of it had made sense at all. Something was upsetting Castiel, too. Dean, by instinct, wanted to hold him close, protect him from the world. 

“I’m sorry mom,” he managed to say without making eye contact with her, “I won’t do it again.” 

“Go ahead and get in the shower, sweetheart. She didn’t mean it. You know she didn’t.”

Dean looked puzzled in the doorway.

_ She did mean it. That’s the problem. What if she really does tell Dean?  _ Castiel’s mind raced. 

“Thanks, mom, I will,” he said, closing the door. He looked at Dean, still dripping wet and half naked, then he looked away running fingers through his hair, “Well, that was awkward. I’m sorry you had to be here for this.” 

“Happen often?” Dean asked sympathetically.

“Often enough,” Castiel answered. 

Dean unzipped his football bag by the door, pulling out deodorant and some cologne, before spraying it and permeating the room with his own smell, regretting it almost instantly. “You don’t deserve that,” Dean said softly, turning back to Cas as he tugged the old shirt over his head again, letting the towel fall, leaving him in his boxers.

Castiel liked the smell of Dean's cologne filling his room. It was very calming. He inhaled greedily. “It's just how it is,” Castiel shrugged. 

“You should go take a shower, feels nice. Don’t let it worry you, Cas. She’s not right you know, no matter what...I don’t think you’re a freak….nothing you could say to me would ever change us. I’m not that type of guy. Okay?”  _ Still. I can’t help but wonder what the hell she was talking about. _

_ I highly doubt that,  _ Castiel cringed on the inside,  _ If you knew the truth...it would change us. One way or another.  _ “Yeah, I'm getting in now. There's the T.V. or you could play Nintendo. Just make yourself at home.”

“I’ll go ahead and give Sam a call. Is there any popcorn? I could make us some before your show.” 

“Yeah, I think so. Just make sure it's ok with mom. Wouldn't want to piss her off more than I already have tonight,” he replied, closing the bathroom door. 

“Hey, watch your fucking language,” Dean teased, winking.

Dean snuck into the closet after he heard the shower turn on, grabbing Cas’ barely damp shirt that he’d worn that day. He took it, zipping it in the side pocket of his football bag, “It’s really only fair, Cas,” he whispered, “I let you keep the jacket.”

 

* * *

 

When Castiel came out of the bathroom, Dean had grabbed them both some juice, and had a bowl full of popcorn. He sat back on the bed, and even had the TV turned on the right channel. The stupid sitcom that came on just before Buffy was ending with a bad punchline that even Dean couldn’t enjoy. “Hey,” he smiled, “Come sit.”

_ I could get used to this.  _ Castiel thought with a smile, sitting down beside Dean and taking a handful of popcorn. “Sorry I took so long.”

Dean tugged the blanket up off the end of Castiel’s bed, wrapping him up in it, “S’okay. Feel better?”

“Yeah, just needed to cool off a bit,” he said, taking a drink, before changing the subject, “So I know you don't watch the show at all, but just so you know what's going on this week...Buffy is dating Angel and they're madly in love, but he was captured by this other girl who's claiming to be a slayer too and I'm just like  _ what _ ? There can only be  _ one _ slayer.” 

Dean smiled, running his fingers through his hair, “You sure you want to be a nurse? You might have a career in TV narration…” he could really care less about Buffy.

“Oh,” Castiel blushed a bit, “Sorry, I get carried away. I just didn't want you to be lost.” 

Dean could tell this meant a lot to him, so he tried to get in, “So, slayer. The girl who kills vampires. There can only be one?” Dean couldn’t imagine a world where there was only one hunter, one person against all the evil, and all the bad of the world.

“Yeah, there can be only one. And when she dies, another girl takes her place. I think the reason this girl showed up is because Buffy technically died last season. Oh, and I also really like Spike, the villain.” 

Castiel more than liked Spike. He was one of his frequent fantasies before he realized he liked Dean. Even now, sometimes it was Dean, sometimes Dean and Spike, sometimes Dean, Spike, and Angel. As the show progressed and Angel’s shirt came off Castiel almost forgot that Dean was there and softest of sighs left his lips. He blushed hard. 

Dean thought back to earlier in the car when he had hoped that Castiel might be like him. Might... _ like him _ . He couldn’t help but feel jealous of this pretty boy vampire. Boy band type. Only thing that could be worse than the regular boy-band type, was a boy-band type that also happened to be a bloodsucker. 

Dean’s own hunter instincts were coming out as his fingers twitched, as though a blade would appear, and he would be in the TV, destroying his competition, and ridding the world of this awful series in the process. Maybe it wasn’t the Angel guy...maybe it was the crazy bitch. He turned, watching Cas chew on his bottom lip, as his eyes studied each of the man’s muscles almost as intensely as he’d read his schoolwork. 

“You okay?” Dean interrupted. It definitely wasn’t the crazy bitch that had Cas so lost in the show. It definitely wasn’t Dean that held his attention either- it was this chiseled, muscular guy- and a British alpha-type. What a dumb fucking name...Spike.

Dean’s eyes ran over his own arms, and over his stomach. There were definitely muscles there- but not like this- not perfect and unscarred. His muscles came from hunting, and hunting had left its own brands on his skin. 

“What?” Castiel asked, so engrossed in the show and his own thoughts that he legitimately hadn’t heard Dean. He’d been wondering what it would be like to be tied up and maybe use candles. Then Spike had come in and he just kept wondering about Dean, Angel, and Spike and how much he’d like them all being naked at the same time together. 

“I asked if you were okay. You were trying to take your lip off.” That would be a damn shame, as they were one of Dean’s favorite features of his- full, and beautiful. Dean was staring again.

“Oh,” Castiel replied with realization. He hadn’t noticed he’d been biting his lip. “Yeah, I’m ok. I just really get into the show. I do it without even noticing.” 

Commercial had come on the TV, “So, it doesn’t scare you? Their faces? That there’s all that bad against just one girl?”  _ Which is, of course, completely unrealistic.  _ But, if Castiel had thought or known that this was reality….he’d feel perhaps entirely differently.  _ I’m not being fair. _

“No it’s just a show, so it’s not scary to me. And Buffy isn’t alone. She’s got the Scooby gang too. Like Willow, Xander, and Giles. And Angel helps her too.” 

“That’ll be her biggest mistake, trusting a vamp,” Dean muttered under his breath, “So, what  _ does _ scare you?”

“Real stuff. Car wrecks and spiders and failing chemistry. What about you? It's hard picturing you being afraid of anything.” Castiel asked, putting more popcorn in his mouth. 

Dean wasn’t afraid of any of those things. He’d learned to drive by the time he was about thirteen, because sometimes dad would be too tired from the hunt to do anything but sleep, and still there was always another hunt to get to. Spiders and snakes were a hell of a lot less scary than an actual monster and the same went for scary movies. The only thing that Dean Winchester feared was failure. It was all he’d ever been able to fear. Failure, and losing the ones he loved. More often than not, and especially lately, the two were entwined.

“Not being enough.” Dean said quietly, admitting one of his deeper flaws.

“Then you have nothing to be afraid of,” Castiel offered with a smile. 

_ But I do. More than you could ever know. _

The show came back on, and Dean couldn’t help but snort as the crazy bitch vampire doused Angel in holy water like he was some sort of demon.

Castiel was on the edge of his seat. Spike was arguing with Angel and nearly killed him. Castiel gasped, before biting his lower lip again. 

“Why doesn’t he just cut off his head and be done with it, I mean, if he wants to kill him?” Dean mused, curious as to Castiel’s response. “I mean, stake through the heart, holy water, really?”

“Because if he kills him then he'll never cure his beloved Drusilla. And also because I would be devastated.” 

“Cas,” Dean whispered a few minutes later, deciding to watch Castiel’s reactions to the show instead of the actual show itself, which proved equally as frustrating, “...They can’t both win.” He watched as Castiel sucked in air over Angel’s torment, and bite his lip in intense concentration as Spike uttered a single word. Yep. This show could burn. In hell. He almost regretted deciding to stay- it felt ridiculous to be so deeply jealous of fictional characters.

“What do you mean?” Castiel said, still a bit distracted. 

“Either Spike kills Angel, or Angel gets away or,” he tilted his head, shrugging, “kills Spike. They can’t both win. You look like you expect them to…” he tested his waters very, very carefully, “hug it out or something.”

_ Please can't they,  _ Castiel thought,  _ or kiss or….  _ “They're both two of my favorite characters so I guess I'm a bit torn,” Castiel admitted with a blush. 

Dean didn’t torment Castiel through the rest of the show. He was torn, too, in his own way. He fell silent, watching him blankly as his mind processed all that he was seeing. Was he just seeing what he wanted to see? Hoping too desperately that the boy he’d fallen so hard for was….like him? 

He shifted until their arms brushed against each other- they were close enough that they were touching...maybe like on a plane, or a crowded bus. God damn it why couldn’t he have been normal? Why couldn’t he have liked girls, and Cas just be a pretty girl and they could be a normal couple without all of this bullshit? And if that wasn’t hard enough to figure out- now  he had to compete with the bad boy british vampire, and the wannabe redeemed supermodel vampire? He suddenly felt very self-conscious again and leaned away.

Castiel noticed the loss of his touch immediately. He wanted to be close to Dean, closer than arms slightly brushing. “So, I made you suffer through Buffy,” Castiel said as the show ended, almost apologetically, “Now what do you want to do?” 

Several things came to Dean’s mind in that moment.  _ I want to hold you. I want to kiss you. I want to touch you. God, I need to touch you. _ “We could play Truth or Dare.” he teased, “Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do at these things?”

Or they could play spin the bottle, just the two of them - or lock themselves in the closet. That had ended in his favor before.

“I’ve never played before. You’ll go easy on me right? Nothing too crazy?” 

“Don’t worry about it, Cas, we won’t play, I was kidding. Besides, I’m bad at those sorts of things.” He scooted back on Castiel’s bed, propping against the pillow and getting halfway under the covers before asking, “D’you want me to sleep on the floor?”

“No it's fine. I can sleep on the floor,” Castiel replied, going to the closet for extra blankets. 

"No, you won't," Dean said adamantly, "I mean, we  _ could _ share, your bed's pretty big." 

Anna’s voice was still strong in Castiel's mind:  _ your gross little fantasy about sleeping in the same bed as him _ . “Are you sure?” he asked, unable to stop thinking that if he knew the truth he might feel differently about it. 

_ Oh yeah, I'm sure. _ Dean got up without a verbal answer, literally dragging Castiel to bed and flopping down with him.

Castiel laughed before giving in, “Alright, alright, you're stronger than me.”

"What gave you that idea?" He teased, tickling Cas without really thinking about it.

“Because…” Castiel laughed, not managing to get the rest of the words out. He tickled Dean back. 

Dean squirmed with such force he fell on the floor with an audible  _ thump _ , eyes blown wide as though he were in shock that anyone would have the audacity to tickle him. He looked at the floor with the same look of shock as though he wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened.

“Are you ok?” Castiel asked, leaning over the edge of the bed, “I didn't mean to knock you off the bed.” He couldn’t help but giggle.

"I'm not ticklish," Dean forced a straight face, frowning at Castiel as though he expected him to believe it.

“I think you are,” Castiel smiled. 

Dean shook his head, climbing back in bed. "I'm not. And remember... If you ever try to prove me wrong, I'm stronger." He smirked.

“Ok,” Castiel smiled, “No tickling.” His good intentions went out as he thought for a moment about  _ how _ Dean would prove he was stronger and tickled him again. 

"Shit!" Dean squirmed, kicking and laughing until he got a good hold on Cas' arms and flipped him, pinning him down, breathless the second he looked at him.  _ Shit. _

Castiel looked up at him with big blue eyes, a little breathless himself as he said, “Wow, you really are strong.”

Dean couldn’t think of anything he wanted more in that moment than to close the distance between their lips...how easy it would have been just then. Instead, the seconds ticked away and the moment lasted too long- Dean staring into Castiel’s eyes until his own arms were about to give out beneath him.

It was too quiet. 

Dean didn’t like the silence. It had taken him long enough to crack the original silence- to find his way under Cas’ skin- to learn him, to know him, to fall in love with him even more when he laughed so hard he doubled over; or, the way he pushed up his glasses when he was thinking too hard. Where silence once had been with them, had become a space filled with laughter, or conversation. 

It could damn well be a tragedy that Dean had been unable to stop himself crashing and burning hard and fast in love with him and those eyes, and that smile. He was addicted to making him laugh, and protective of him almost as much as Sam. And it was tragic because even  if Castiel did like boys- they were boys like Spike and Angel- pretty boys- the kind he could never be, and so the worst thing Dean could do to the boy he loved OR to his best friend was love him this much.

Love never ended well. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. It was a popular saying amongst hunters. And, as dad had pointed out, it didn’t say anything about love. Not a goddamned thing. 

“I’ve never seen you so quiet,” Castiel said softly. 

Dean kept his pause a moment longer, not wanting to fill the silence with the deafening truth- the tension that was between them- at least on his part, the ache to take him, even just by kissing him. “Tell me something I don’t know about you,” he said, rolling off of Cas, finally.

“There’s really not much to tell,” he replied, taking his glasses off and setting them on the nightstand.  _ Just the fact that I’m in love with you and that I’m gay and not to mention the dark past that I can never tell you about. Other than that, I’m an open and shut case.  _

“I’ll start then. I was born in Kansas, but I’ve lived just about everywhere. My favorite color is blue ( _ like the blue in your eyes _ ), I never know how long I’m going to stay somewhere ( _ but god do I want to stay here with you _ ). Basically, it’s me, my brother Sam, my dad, my uncle Bobby, my best friend Amber, and her parents because they’ve all been working together forever. I don’t know how to dance, and I like classic rock, and old cars. And vanilla milkshakes”. 

It wasn’t what Castiel wanted. He wanted to know something new about Dean. He wanted to know everything about Dean.

“But Dean, I already know those things about you. Tell me something new. Tell me something...juicy.” 

Dean squirmed just a bit. When it came to the deepest, darkest secrets in Dean’s head, they were all...huge. They were too much, and nearly all of them would scare Castiel away. He could imagine it now,  _ I’m Dean Winchester. Let me start off by saying that I’m a hunter. That’s right. Monsters are real, Cas. Vamps, too. They don’t look like pop stars. They’re scary as hell. I want to protect you from the world that you don’t know exists. Why? Oh. That too. I like boys. Particularly...ah, what the hell, Cas, I’m in love with you. I’m only dating your sister so you’d notice me. I’m pathetic, and I want to touch you...need to feel you close… _

Dean looked up, before looking away, “I can’t stand Anna. And I can’t stand myself when I let her treat you like that.”

“Then why are you with her?” Castiel asked, puzzled, as he propped himself up on an elbow, eager to hear more, “I mean, you deserve so much better and you can have anyone you wanted.” 

“Not the person I want…” he let it slip without thinking, as easily as if he were saying it in front of Amber, or Sam. He began turning crimson. “I mean, I can’t have anyone I want. And I have my reasons for dating Anna, though none of them are good ones.”

“And you're not going to tell me what the reasons are, are you?” Castiel asked.

"No," Dean smiled. "But now you have to tell me a secret."

Castiel thought long and hard for a moment. He couldn't tell any of his darkest secrets; they were  _ too _ dark. “You know how my mom thinks meatloaf is my favorite? I actually hate it, but I can't hurt her feelings.”

Dean put his face in his hand, shaking it, and groaning, “Cas, that might be the worst secret ever. C’mon, man, give me something here.”  _ Give me something to work with. Give me a reason to tell you the truth. _

Castiel smiled, “Sometimes, I change the washer settings so that it shrinks Anna’s clothes and she thinks she’s getting fat. Then she goes on a diet for like three weeks.” 

“Oh god, don’t do that while she’s dating me. She made me eat kale the other day, Cas.  _ Kale. _ You evil little shit,” he poked Cas in a ticklish spot in the ribs. “I uh...used to do really well in school. Like, straight A’s and shit.” Dean shrugged.

Castiel laughed at being tickled and then turned serious, “You could get straight A’s again Dean. I've been helping you with your homework. You're really smart.”

“It doesn’t matter, Cas. But, it makes you happy- so I try. Your turn.”

“Why would you go through all that work just to make me happy? You should do it for you, Dean.” 

Dean frowned, getting up and turning the lights off, evading the topic. “Your turn,” he insisted as he laid back on the bed,  “Hey…” he said with a smile, “You like the stars?”

He hadn’t noticed before that attached to Castiel’s ceiling were several glow-in-the-dark stars, the kind Dean always used to beg his dad for when he was younger, and was always disappointed when John said no, that there wasn’t a point. They never stayed anywhere long enough.

“Oh,” Castiel said, blushing in the dark, “Not really. They’ve been up there since I was a kid. I keep meaning to take them down.”  _ Nothing’s more sexy than stars I’ve had since I was five. I wish I could crawl in a corner and die. _

“I like them. Look, they’re in constellations, that’s pretty amazing.” Dean Winchester lay on his back next to Castiel, pointing out the stars in his room like they were something new that Cas hadn’t seen a hundred times before, his finger tracing their shapes in the air in the dark of the room. “You should keep them. You could add more constellations later, y’know, different phases of life- new discoveries. Or you could take them down. Up to you. I always wanted these when I was younger. I’d probably still have them up if dad had let me have them.”

“Maybe,” Castiel replied, not sure what else to say, “Your turn.” 

“Nope. It was definitely your turn. Nice try, though.” Dean adjusted, snuggling into the blankets. He was almost certain that if he were left alone in Castiel’s bed, he’d fall asleep in minutes...the smell of the one he loved bringing him more comfort than anything else he could imagine.

“I don't know. I'm bad at this. I guess...sometimes I steal my dad's pens out of his office and I don't bring them back.” Castiel shrugged. 

“You rebel,” Dean teased, rolling his eyes, “Come on, Cas. Uh...my first kiss was when I was twelve. It was with Amber. It was pretty awful.”

“Why was it awful?” he asked curiously.

Dean blushed, “Well, there were teeth. There shouldn’t be teeth in kissing, or anything else for that matter.”  _ Oh god. Did I just say that?  _ “And when you’re making out, you shouldn’t treat the other person’s tongue like it’s a…”  _ Cock. Shit. Fuck. Change subject, c’mon Cas, change the subject. _

“Dean...I have a secret to tell,” Castiel whispered, going crimson in the dark. 

“Okay,” Dean said, “Fire away.” He settled, going silent, eager to hear anything Castiel could offer him.

Castiel blew out a big breath. “I've never been kissed,” he said quietly, “What if I'm bad at it too? What if there's...teeth?”

Dean’s heart leapt in his chest. Something primal growled in him,  _ mine.  _

“Really?” He whispered, “You’ve never been kissed?” Sure, Dean had thought he was probably still a virgin...but, this. This he wanted to nurture, and corrupt...he wanted his lips to be the ones caressing Castiel’s so tenderly, teaching him. “Have you ever dated anyone?”

“No,” he replied, embarrassed. 

“Then, I suppose no harm, right?” he forced out, “I mean, you don’t just go kissing people for the hell of it.”  _ Unless you’re me. Unless your dad might shoot you with one of several guns if he were ever to know the truth.  _ “But...why?”

Dean was utterly shocked, before he stopped to think about it and came to the conclusion that no, of course not. Cas deserved better than anyone at that school. After his stomach stopped doing leaps thinking about him being the first one to press his lips to Cas’, he almost felt sad. Sure, there was only one other person that Dean had ever felt a spark with- but there was a lot to be missed from not being in a relationship. Closeness, for one. He was lucky enough that even without sex (which he tried to abstain from with his fake girlfriends if he could), that he had Sammy, and Amber to curl around at night. He loved those things, and he felt a loss that Castiel might not have had them.

“I guess I just keep my nose in my books too much. It's not like anyone ever notices me,” Castiel shrugged. 

“People would be kind of stupid not to notice you, Cas. Maybe, you just don’t notice them. Anyone would be lucky to have you. Do you have a crush on someone?” Dean teased.

Castiel nodded, going more crimson in the dark, but didn't say anything.  _ You, Dean, my crush is you.  _

“Oh.” Dean felt his heart crunch in his chest, “Who?”

It was like he’d said to Cameron...he’d be lucky enough to find a guy he liked, one worth the sacrifice...then when he did, there was a million to one chance of the guy liking him back. 

“I don't want to say. That's a secret for another day,” Castiel whispered. 

“Aww, c’mon Cas, it's just me.”

_ That's the point. _ “Your turn,” Castiel replied.  It was embarrassing enough to be a sophomore and never having kissed someone. It was a million times worse to have your crush asking questions about it. His face burned red and he was glad Dean couldn’t see it in the dark. 

“Cas…” Dean said, onto another thought entirely, “Has anyone ever held you before? I mean, when Sam was little, he used to be scared of thunder… Still kinda is… But I used to hold him and it made him relax. Anna doesn't seem the type. At all, really.” He was rolled facing Castiel now.

Dean loved to cuddle. Part of him wasn’t even ashamed that until recently, he’d cuddled up to Sam at night, until the little brat had begun to kick him out of bed. So, he’d cuddled up to Amber, and still did, even though there was no kind of spark between them. He couldn’t imagine not having that closeness. It was something that always gave him peace.

“Anna,” Castiel snorted, “No, she's not. Not at all. But my mom used to, when I was real little.” 

He didn’t let Cas protest, didn’t let him say a single thing. His arm snaked around him, dragging him to him in his strong arms, cradling him safely, protectively. His heart lurched, then settled. He could smell Castiel’s hair, he felt the heat of his skin. He couldn’t help but relax, even as his heart beat a million miles an hour.

It was just the way Dean was, bordering on reckless it seemed, unless you knew him. If you knew him, then you knew that most of the Dean Winchester everyone saw was a front. Dad had told him ‘you can’t get hurt unless you let yourself’. Dean wasn’t stupid. There were too many things he could let hurt...bad. So, he shoved it all aside. His mother, his illogical fear that even now something could be happening to Sammy, the fear of moving, and the fear of himself. The fear of what he was feeling. He wouldn’t let it hurt, at least, not outwardly. But this didn’t hurt. This was the best he had felt in such a long time, the feeling of home flooding back with his loved one in his embrace.

“Wow, you really  _ are _ strong,” was all Castiel could utter after being dragged halfway across the bed like he was nothing.  _ Oh God he's holding me, is this real?  _

“Heh. I guess,” Dean blushed in the dark, his fingers curling into Cas’ hair, breathing him in- that smell of shampoo, and of him, of Cas.

Castiel was quiet for a long time before he asked, “Dean...what are you doing?”

That brought Dean back from his happy place almost instantly, but he recovered well enough, “You deserve to be held,” Dean whispered against Cas’ hair, “Though….” He let out a small laugh, “Relax,” Dean said, pulling him closer “You're like a board.” He ran his fingers through Castiel's hair, as he pulled his arm over, letting Cas wrap his arms around him, maybe for entirely selfish reasons. Even though he was the one moving Cas’ arm, it sent chills up his spine. He rest his hand on the small of Cas’ back, realizing that his shirt had bunched up and that his fingers were touching Castiel’s bare flesh. 

Castiel’s  heart pounded in his chest at Dean’s touch, feeling him so close.  _ It’s moments like this I know I could never tell you,  _ Castiel thought.  _  I don’t want to lose moments like this. Not for anything. This… whatever this is….I don’t want to lose this. _

“I have a crush on someone, too,” Dean said, stroking Castiel’s hair, to calm both their nerves, trying to get Cas’ mind off of the fact that normal guy friends probably don’t hold each other.

“Really?’ Castiel asked, trying hard to mask the hurt in his voice, “On who?” 

“That’s a secret for another day. Your turn,” his fingers twitched against the warmth of Cas’ skin.

“I told you. I don’t really have many secrets,” Castiel said softly, “But...what are you doing for Thanksgiving? It’s not that far away and I think Mom’s already planning on inviting you and Sam both. You’re like family.”  _ You’re my family Dean. You’re important to me. I want you to be ….mine….my boyfriend.  _

“I uh…” Dean hesitated, “It’s not that I don’t want to, Cas, really....”

“Is your dad coming home?” Castiel asked. 

Dean pulled Cas a little tighter against him without meaning to, “No, it’s not that. I don’t want to fuck up your family’s Thanksgiving. Sam and I...we don’t really do holidays.”

“You won’t fuck it up, Dean. That’s Uncle Dan’s job after he inevitably has more than too many beers and Aunt Nancy sits in the kitchen, gossiping about the whole family. I’m usually bored out of my mind. You wouldn’t do that to me, would you? Plus, Mom would just kill you if she found out that you and Sam spent the holidays by yourselves.” 

“I don’t know the first thing about it, Cas. The only Thanksgivings we’ve ever really had were the couple times we were at Uncle Bobby’s...and it wasn’t an invite the whole family thing. There was a turkey that he shot, and some other food, and alcohol. I think there’s supposed to be a football game, right?”

“A lot of them watch the game, yeah. I don’t. I hate sports. Unless I’m watching you play,” he recovered quickly, “Please don’t make me suffer alone. There’ll be lots of pie.”

“I dunno Cas, holidays just feel...weird. Am I supposed to bring something? Like, a veggie tray?”

“No, You don’t have to bring anything, except Sam,” Castiel laughed, his body shaking against Dean’s as he did so, “Mom would take it as an insult. She spends three days cooking everything from scratch. Please say you’ll come? For me? I mean there’s lots of pie and you can do what I do and ignore my belligerent family.. It’s not that much different than when you come over for dinner any other time.” 

“Yeah, we’ll go. Anything for you…” he paused, “or your mom’s pie.”

Castiel blushed again at Dean’s words. He hugged Dean tight. “Thanks Dean. It means a lot that I won’t be stuck all alone this year.” 

The words hit Dean hard. Alone. They...he and Sam...they were always alone. “You’ll never be alone, Cas.”  _ Come closer, let me prove it. _

Castiel pulled away, but was still close, in Dean’s arms. “So what about Christmas? I think she wants you to come for Christmas too. Will you be able to make it, or will your dad be home by then?” 

“My dad’s never home for the holidays, Cas.”

“Never?” Castiel asked, sadly. 

“Well, he’s never home any other time, either, to be fair,” Dean tried to joke, continuing to stroke Cas’ hair. “Sam and I kinda do Christmas. Usually something cheap, and I cook something decent...one year I chopped down our neighbor’s little pine tree,” he said sheepishly.

Castiel’s heart was breaking for both Dean and Sam. He tried not to let it show in his voice, “You should definitely come this year. Please Dean? Both you and Sam. You deserve a great Christmas, I mean...not that it sounds like your Christmas was bad...just my family really goes all out and I think you and Sam would both love it. Tree and all.”

“Let me guess...you’re one of those families that drinks eggnog while decorating the tree and listening to Christmas carols...the kind that leaves cookies for Santa and wakes up at dawn to open presents.” Dean had seen his fair share of Christmas movies...and he wasn’t about to tell Cas about the couple years he’d stolen a couple extraneous Christmas presents from kids just like Cas to make sure Sam had something...even though one year it was Malibu Barbie. Oops. 

“Close,” Castiel replied, “Mom doesn't let us have eggnog. We haven't left cookies for Santa in years. But we do bake cookies, and build gingerbread houses and gingerbread men. Mom, Anna, and me put the tree together with lights, garland, and ornaments while dad puts the lights up outside. Mom makes a big dinner, there's Christmas music, and it's just us, no annoying relatives. It's kind of a whole month long thing. Please? It'd mean a lot if you both came. And it'd make mom really happy. And there will be pie.” 

“Are you trying to get me to come for you, or for the pie?” Dean smiled, “You don’t have to tempt me with food,” Dean laughed. “If you want me there, I’ll be there.”

“Really?” He grinned wide in the dark, “I mean, do you really mean it?” 

“Yeah, I mean, what’s the chance that dad’ll show up this Christmas, right?” Dean said, “What about Balthazar? He coming, too?”  _ Please say no. Please say this is something special between us. I don’t need any fancy gifts...just you, Cas. Just you. _

_ “ _ He always visits his grandmum in England. We usually do gifts before he leaves.” 

“I don’t think your mom knows what she’s getting into with Sam,” Dean warned, straying away from the topic of Balthazar. Dean had an uneasy feeling that the overdressed rich boy had more than just friendly feelings for Cas, “You don’t see him after he’s consumed a large amount of sweets,” he chuckled against Cas’ ear, still running his fingers through his hair.

“It'll be great,” Castiel reassured, “Having you both here. It'll be so much fun.” Castiel hadn't realized he was running his fingers up and down Dean's back. It was just comforting. 

Dean relaxed into Castiel’s touch, wanting to protest or argue, but not wanting to lose the moment, “I’m not used to this…” he finally admitted.

_ Not used to what? Christmas? Family? Holding me tight and never letting me go? “ _ Not used to what?” Castiel finally asked aloud. 

“Cas…” Dean looked to explain, finally coming up with a story, “When I say dad isn’t around for this shit, I really mean it. He’s missed birthdays, holidays, pretty much all of Sammy’s firsts. When I was five, Sam said his first word. Dad. It….wasn’t to my dad. It was to me. I’m not used to any of this. I guess in a way I’ve always considered Sam my responsibility...and I feel a little guilty, I guess...that your mom feels like she has to go so out of the way for us. I should be able to take care of him. I always have...and no matter how hard I try...there was never lights, or garland, or pie. It was just us. And now here you are like some sort of….” he blushed crimson, “Like some sort of friggin’ angel. I don’t deserve any of this.”  _ I don’t deserve you.  _

Dean's words broke Castiel's heart.  _ You deserve so much. I want to be your angel, Dean.  _

_ “ _ You deserve these things Dean. And you've done a great job taking care of Sam. Holidays aren't about lights or decorations or presents. It's just being with the ones you love, the ones you care about the most.” 

Dean didn’t realize that his grip had tightened around Castiel, almost as if to say:  _ You, Cas. You’re the one I love.  _ “I told you I’ll be there,” he whispered into his hair, “No chick flick moments, okay?” He was starting to get drunk on the sugar of the atmosphere- love drunk wouldn’t stop him from ruining this, “Your turn.”

“When I was little I used to put boogers in Anna's hair while she was asleep. She was so awful to me I had to get payback.”

Dean snorted, “That’s...pretty gross, Cas. Uh. I used to steal all the rainbows out of Sam’s Lucky Charms because he never left me any. He used to get really upset because they were his favorites and he thought the leprechauns were mad at him.”

“Mine might be gross, but yours is just mean. Poor Sam,” he tickled Dean. 

"Poor Sam? Little bastard ate the whole box. I deserved them," Dean gloated, squirming nearly off the bed again in fits of laughter.

A soft knock came at the door, "Keep it down, boys."

Castiel stopped immediately, whispering, “I don't want to get us in trouble.”

Dean launched back on the bed. He'd heard Mrs. Novak's footsteps back downstairs. He tickled Castiel mercilessly, using his whole body to keep him pinned down.

"No fair, no fair," Castiel protested, laughing as quietly as possible.

“You gonna tickle me again?” Dean asked, continuing his assault.

“Yes,” Castiel said laughing, tickling Dean more. 

“What was that?” Dean asked, even as he squirmed, tickling Cas’ sides, taking his shirt up part of the way with his effort, “I don’t think I heard you right.”

“No fair!” he insisted, still tickling, “You're stronger Dean!”

“Well then, I’d stop tickling if I were you,” Dean warned, rolling to where he was on top of Castiel again, straddling his lap, tickling his ribs.

“Never,” Castiel laughed, tickling Dean even more.  _ Oh God,  _ Castiel thought,  _ he’s actually on top of me. What if I start getting hard for him?  _ “You win,” Castiel conceded quickly, still laughing. 

“What was that?” Dean teased, tickling again with a smile that froze in place when he realized that Castiel was beneath him, looking up at him. His stomach flipped.

“You win,” Castiel repeated, laughing still, “You win, Dean.” 

Dean rolled off of Castiel and onto his back in victory, laying there a moment before scooping Cas back up into his arms, a little sweaty from their feud.

Castiel still wasn’t used to being held. He laid there quietly for a long moment. He’d never been held before, and this was nice, but he couldn’t stop thinking of only moments ago  when Dean was on top of him, pinning him down. Would that be what it was like...if they?  _ I wonder if he’s had sex before. He’s Dean Winchester, of course he’s had sex before. I wonder what it would be like? What would it be like to fuck Dean Winchester? I want him to be my first.  _

“Dean?” 

“Yeah, Cas?” 

“Have you ever done anything more than kissing?” 

Dean chuckled, “Is this your way of asking me if I’ve fucked before?” he asked bluntly, mainly to see Castiel’s reaction.

“Yeah,” Castiel said quietly, feeling his face heat up. 

“Well, yeah,” Dean said, as harmlessly as he could, “I thought you knew that. Or at least assumed it,” he teased. He knew that Castiel had learned to stop assuming things about him a long time ago.  “Why do you ask?”

“What’s it feel like?” Castiel asked, “Fucking?” 

“It feels like fucking?” Dean shrugged, “Good with the right person...not so good with,”  _ Girls.  _ “The wrong person. Honestly don’t remember everything. It’s been awhile.” Casey Harris, the all-star of last year’s football team...away at college now. He’d taken time to teach him everything he knew before he’d left. They had been….friends? Fuck buddies?

“How long is awhile?” Castiel was rather curious what ‘awhile’ meant for Dean Winchester. 

“When I first moved here, ish? January?”

Castiel didn’t have fond memories of that January. It took him a moment to move past the bad memories that came flooding back, and he asked, “You haven’t since then? Not with Anna?” 

“God, no,” Dean said, surprised that it was even a question, “Has she said that?”

“Yeah,” Castiel nodded, relieved that it was just another a lie. 

“Anything else?” Dean prodded, curious at such a dirty topic coming from Castiel Novak, and wondering how much he could make him blush.

“Are blowjobs as great as everyone makes them out to be?” 

“Again with the teeth,” Dean smiled, tapping his own teeth with his finger. “But if done right, fuck yes.”

_ Teeth bad. Check. I bet Dean would do it right. He’d be fucking amazing,  _ Castiel thought.

“Have you ever had sex in a car?” Castiel asked, unable to contain the question any longer.

“No. But I want to,” he smirked, “Sometimes…” Oh god, was he really gonna let it go here? “Sometimes I picture my crush in the back seat of the Impala, fogging up the windows while we’re making love.”  _ Did I just say making love? Guess that’s what it’d be with Cas, but still…. _ “The thrill of being potentially caught would be kind of amazing. Plus, how sexy would it be to get off to Journey in a classic car?” 

_ Need to buy Journey C.D., Check. You, Dean. I think of you fucking me in that Impala,  _ Castiel thought,  _ And it would be life changing.  _

“It’s always been a fantasy of mine,” Castiel admitted, “The car, not the Journey, although that would be nice too. Sometimes I picture my crush in the backseat of a car too.” 

“Oh?” Dean smiled, “Where else do you picture your crush?” It surprisingly didn’t hurt to say anything about Castiel’s crush- because, without a name, he could safely pretend it was him.

“Mostly in my room, or the backseat of the car. I guess I’m pretty boring. What about you? Where else do you picture your crush?”  _ I wish I was your crush, Dean.  _

Dean evaded the inevitable  _ on top of me, or in my arms _ by changing the subject around coyly, “So I guess this means you haven’t done  _ nothing _ .”

“What do you mean?” Castiel asked blankly. 

“Well, I don’t imagine you’re in school when you’re fantasizing about fucking in a car. Earlier you said you hadn’t done anything at all. I don’t think that’s true.”

“Well...I mean…” Castiel said, flustered, “I’ve...taken care of myself. But I’ve never done anything with anyone else.” 

Dean shifted his leg at the thought of Castiel touching himself, feeling his cock twitch in his boxers, and not wanting Castiel to feel it...at least, not like this. “To be fair, everyone’s done that. Kind of a nightly thing for me.”

Castiel turned crimson in the dark. Now all he could picture was Dean touching himself, laying in bed, moaning his name. He scooted just a little away from Dean, as he felt his cock begin to stiffen. He was quiet for a moment, unable to stop thinking about it, the word just slipped from his lips by accident. “Nightly?” 

Dean felt his cheeks heat up, “It helps me sleep.”

“I’m just usually too tired by the time I’m done with my homework and everything.” Castiel confessed, “I usually only do it a couple times a week.” 

“No wonder you’re so tense and grumpy at school,” Dean teased, continuing to torment Cas.

“I’m not grumpy,” Castiel protested, before sounding unsure as he added, “Am I?” 

Dean shrugged, "You're not really a morning person."

“Maybe I should do it more often,” Castiel mused. 

_ Maybe we should do it now...together,  _ Dean’s other brain thought, aching between his legs. “Maybe,” he whispered.

“What other kinds of stuff do you like?” Castiel asked curiously, propping himself up on his elbow again.

Dean smiled, “I like to tease...drag it out until there’s no holding back.” 

Oh, and the things he would do to Castiel Novak if he’d let him...kiss, touch and caress every inch of him, learn his body better than he knew his own. He’d memorize the taste of Castiel’s mouth, and the smell of precome from how much he wanted him, how much he needed….

He shifted his legs again, even more uncomfortable now.

“Like, how do you tease?” Castiel asked, taking mental notes. 

“Well, there are other sensitive spots to mess with, you know. The neck,” Dean gathered his courage and brushed his guitar and gun calloused fingers across Castiel’s neck gently, “Ears,” the touch trailed up. “Really any contact. Touching, kissing, exploring each other until the body is in sensory overload, and you can barely breathe. Like that, Cas.”

“Oh,” Castiel replied, a shiver going down his back, “I guess I never really thought about it like that.” 

_ Fuck. He’s touching me. Right now. Is this really happening? Please, Dean, don’t stop,  _ Castiel’s mind raced, along with his heart. 

“You don’t picture the way your crush would touch you? You don’t really strike me as the kind who just wants sex, Cas. You want more than that. You want the fairytale, chick flick stuff. You want the heavy breaths, the sounds that you make when you completely lose control,” Dean began to get off track, reverting to his own fantasy of them, “Grasping hands, swollen lips, the rhythm, sticking to each other. You want the ‘I love you’- you want the teasing.” It was a statement, not a question.

Castiel let out a soft sigh before he could stop himself. 

“Well, the kissing I always picture and the holding hands. I guess I just never realized how many sensitive spots there were,” Castiel said almost breathlessly. 

Dean found himself wanting to pull Castiel closer, to kiss the sensitive spots on his neck, to hear more of those sounds. With only the one he just made, Dean’s body was on fire, and it took everything in him not to show Cas what the fairytale looked like. The only way to talk himself out of it was to remind himself that he was no prince. He wasn’t good for him...oh but God, he could be good to him.  He found himself tracing Castiel’s back with his fingertip. “You’ll learn...with the right person, I guess.”

_ You are the right person, Dean. I want it to be you.  _

“Dean?” Castiel asked softly, “Tell me more. Like what other stuff do you like?” 

“I dunno, Cas. There are still a lot of things I haven’t tried.”

“Like what?” Castiel asked curiously, his ears perking up and his mental pen ready for any and all notes, “What’s something you haven’t tried? Something that you want to try.” 

“God, uh...69?”

“What’s 69?” 

Dean’s eyes widened, “ _ Really _ , Cas?”

“What? I want to know,” Castiel blinked, cocking his head in confusion. 

“How do you  _ not _ already know?” Dean asked, baffled. He began tracing the numbers onto Castiel’s back, which seemed dirty...at the very least, far less innocent than when he and Sam had traced pictures onto each other’s backs as children. “Well, think of them as people...the numbers. The bottom part of the 6,” he said as he traced a ‘6’ onto Cas’ back, “is a head, same with the top of the ‘9’”, he said, tracing the other number, “Make sense?”

“Not really,” Cas laughed a little nervously, “So what’s that mean?” 

Dean groaned, “It’s where both people are erm...pleasuring...each other, with their mouths...at the same time. 69.” He felt a bit like a teacher, and a little guilty for corrupting Cas.

“Oh,” Castiel said as realization sank in. He was quiet for a couple minutes before he added, “I bet that would be nice.” 

“I mean, you’d probably have to be close to the same height and stuff…” Dean shrugged, noting that while Castiel was a fair bit shorter than him, it wasn’t too short for that, “You sound kind of unsure,” Dean babbled.

“Not really unsure….just….it sounds like a lot of multitasking. I bet it would be hard to concentrate while you were being pleasured too, but that it would feel really good at the same time.” 

“I dunno, maybe. I get really turned on knowing that I’m turning someone else on, though.”  _ Like right now.  _ It was just his words...Dean knew that. Cas was just thinking about what it would be like to experience these things...but, his heavy breaths, the way his body was warmer and he was fidgeting...they didn’t go unnoticed.

“Have you ever tried anal?” he asked, not meaning for it to come out as bluntly as it sounded.  _ Please say yes. Say that you love it. Say that’s it one of your favorites.  _

“Wh…” Dean actually choked on his words, feeling the breath knocked out of him, his own face turning the color of Castiel’s.  _ Does he know that I’m...how could he… _

His first time was with Cameron, the same night that he’d left. Something to remember him by...something to seal the first ‘I love you’ he’d ever said to a partner, and the last.  Dean could still remember how fast he’d came that night, even while he was crying. It had felt so damn good to be inside his lover, listen to the sounds he was making, the way he had been writhing beneath him, begging for more.

After that, he’d gotten experimental. He’d started using his fingers to work himself up to something bigger. It had felt unbelievably better than expected. He remembered how he’d felt disappointment in himself again, as he so often did during that time...because if there was anything that would be worse to John Winchester than his son being gay, it was his son being the bottom. Or, as John Winchester would more likely than not put it ‘the bitch’.

The thought hadn’t been enough to dissuade him after Amber gave him the idea to go shopping for her, and himself, and even Sammy. He’d bought himself a decently sized blue plug, and upgraded from there every so often when he did his sneaking into the adult store, smut-shopping for Sam’s skin mags, and Amber’s...what did she call them...eggs? 

After the discovery of sex toys, there’d been Casey, who Dean had always topped with. That had been over fairly quickly after they’d been caught and the rumors started. Being gay didn’t get you a full ride football scholarship...it didn’t get you much of anything. Dean had went back to the toys- the only things that had placed him on the receiving end of the spectrum. All of this came rushing back as Castiel asked.

_ Oh...wait Dean, _ he thought to himself,  _  guys do it to girls too… _

“Uh...well, yeah…” he said, skeptically.

“Do you like it?” Castiel asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

“Wait…” he paused, his body going stiff, his hands ceasing movement on Castiel’s back as he nervously asked, “D’you mean have I done it to someone else...or has someone ever done it to me?”  _ Why the fuck does it matter, Dean? You’d like it either way. _

“Both,” Castiel asked, even more curious now. 

“...Yes.”

“To which one?” 

Dean felt his face heat up, feeling uncomfortable for the first time in this whole conversation. “Both…” he murmured

“Which do you like more?” 

Dean Winchester wasn’t about to admit to his crush, his Cas, that he liked to take it. He liked the punishment. He liked losing his fucking control and just letting himself fucking go. He shrugged, unable to lie, either. “Jesus, Cas, with the questions.”

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, “It’s just...I don’t know much about this stuff....and I’m curious. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. We can talk about something else.” 

“No,” Dean said hesitantly, “It’s okay. I don’t mean to sound like an ass… I’m just not used to…”  _ Answering all of these questions to the guy I’m in love with.  _ “Well, they’re both fun. Just...different, I guess?”

“Does it hurt? Having it done to you?” 

“At first. But, after awhile,”  _ It feels really, really fucking good.  _ “You get used to it, it’s more pleasure than pain. Just have to use a lot of lube.”

“What do you use for lube? Like the kind you buy at the store or other stuff like lotion?” 

“Oh, god no, Cas. You don’t use lotion for that. The real stuff. Vaseline, or some of the fancy shit in the sex aisle of the store.” He pondered for a moment, thinking of what he had done the first time he’d tried it himself, “Or spit,” he mused.

“So...what do you mean you’ve let someone else do it to you? Like how did they do it?” 

“Hey now...I never said someone else did it to me.”  _ But, fuck, if they did…. _ Dean shifted again.

“But...you said you liked it,” Castiel said a bit confused, “That it was fun.” 

“I uh...I do it to myself.” He tried to sound as composed as he possibly could, trying to downplay it.

“Oh,” Castiel replied, “So... _ how _ do you do it to yourself?”  _ Maybe I’ll try it.  _

_ Fuck….is he thinking about…. _ “Well, copious amounts of lube the first few times, until you get used to it. I guess most people use their fingers. I did in the beginning. But, you know me, I’m not exactly a law-abiding citizen,” he smirked, “I bought some ‘toys’, at the ‘store’.”

_ What kind of toys?  _ Castiel’s heart raced. He could feel himself getting hard with thoughts about Dean playing with himself, showing him just how he liked to be touched. He tried to stop it. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “So...what’s the store like? I’ve never been...obviously.”

“About like you’d expect. There are creepy people who are incredibly blunt with their purchases. Truck drivers especially, oh man.”

Dean recalled once when he’d been in the store, he’d been approached by a man like that, coming onto him, looking for some fun in his truck. Dean couldn’t have gotten out of there fast enough. Wasn’t his scene, blowing some random older guy.

“But then there are people like...well, like you...who try to be invisible, and hide whatever they’re buying. The cashiers are really helpful if you let them be. Tell them what you want and they’ll give you recommendations, guess part of the job is testing the toys. There are skin mags, and porno movies, costumes, games, and about every toy you could imagine.” And Dean had his fair share of the collection: butt plugs, cock rings, condoms, even handcuffs.

Castiel had never seen a skin mag, let alone a porno movie, but he wanted to.  _ I wonder if Dean likes costumes or games?  _ “I...I don’t know much about toys. What kind do you have?” 

Dean was surprised at how embarrassed he felt answering the more personal questions...telling Castiel about his collection of toys that he used in his room, in the dark, jerking it to some mental image of his best friend- imagining that the toys were the real thing. He evaded, “So, who’s your crush?” He countered, giving an example of the uncomfortable situation as he attempted to pull Castiel closer.

“Ah,” was all that came out of Castiel’s mouth. He was so hard from their conversation. He tried to stop Dean, but he was stronger. It was too late now. He was hard and pressed against Dean.  _ I could just fucking die right now.  _ His face was crimson as he wriggled free from Dean’s grasp and laid on the edge of the bed again, like a board. He was so hard that it raised the blanket up a bit .  _ Thank God it’s dark in here.  _

“Sorry...I just...need a minute…” Castiel tried to explain, his face burning with embarrassment. 

Dean’s throat felt tight. His heart stopped. He could see well enough in the dark...enough to see what he had just felt. He gulped, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

_ Do it. Just touch him. Kiss him. Do something. _

“I’m just gonna get something to drink, Cas, and call Sam, make sure he’s okay. Probably still up playing games. It’ll be about ten minutes.” 

He didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t wait to humiliate his beloved further. He shut the bedroom door behind him. He walked down the stairs, and another door clicked- definitely not the kitchen, but, the half-bath under the stairs, unsure if this was for his own relief, or for Castiel’s.

Castiel was so embarrassed. He didn’t know what to do. The way Dean had left, it was like he knew he’d be touching himself. There was no way that could happen. Not with Dean coming back to bed soon.  _ Oh, fuck, does he  _ want  _ me to touch myself? What if he’s...right now…? _

He climbed out of bed and found one of his socks on the floor before climbing back into bed. He was so hard it was almost painful. All he could think about was Dean and his words, wishing that he was still in here, with his hands all over his body. 

_ You want me to tease you? Don’t you, Cas?  _

It wasn’t the first time Dean had invaded his fantasies...in fact, it was becoming almost too frequent, and his imaginary Dean sometimes seemed almost real. Just closing his eyes, he could basically feel Dean on top of him- the warmth of his skin against his own, fingertips igniting sparks every time they moved across his flesh. He could still smell him.

_ You should really just tell me, you know. Need you…  _ the figment Dean buried his face into Castiel’s neck, breathing him in before kissing, catching the sensitive skin between his lips,  _ I’d take such good care of you, Cas. Make you feel so damn good. I’d show you everything. _

_ Show me Dean,  _ Castiel replied in his head, as he began stroking himself, trying to hurry before the real Dean came back  _ Please, I need you. I need you so bad.  _

Figment Dean’s voice was rough in Castiel’s ear _ , I want you on top of me, Cas. Want to see you come for me. _

_ LIke this Dean?  _ Castiel asked, picturing himself on top of Dean, stroking himself faster. He was so close. So close already. 

Figment Dean grabbed Castiel’s hips,  _ Keep touching yourself, Cas...just like that, gonna be as gentle as I can with you… _

_ Please Dean, I’m so close, I need you. I need you inside of me.  _ Castiel was panting, small noises coming from his lips as he got closer and closer. 

_ Okay, Cas...are you ready? Hold on to me…. _

As Castiel moved, the faint smell of Dean wafted up from the pillow he was laying on, Castiel sucked on one of his fingers, getting it wet, remembering Dean’s words about lube. 

_ One...two… _

As the figment reached  _ three _ Castiel slipped a finger inside of himself and he came hard, the sock damp in his hand. 

He’d never done anything like that before, and just the thought of Dean being inside of him had him comeming harder than he could remember. 

“Oh God, Dean,” he whispered aloud, unable to stop the words from falling from his lips. 

Castiel worked fast. He shoved the sock in the bottom of the laundry basket, then went to the bathroom to clean himself up and wash his hands. He climbed back into bed. He hadn’t felt this sated in such a long time, still breathing heavy. But now, the minutes before Dean came back ticked on agonizingly slow. 

When the door finally creaked open, Dean stepped in, “Hey, Cas, guess what?” he said, as though he were clueless to what had just happened, even though they both knew he wasn’t. He walked to the window, his back to Castiel.

“What?” Castiel asked, remaining rigid in bed as he became highly aware that his room smelled of come. 

Dean pulled the drawstring to the blinds up, mild light from the street lamps shining in the window, “C’mere.”

Castiel walked slowly to the window, rubbing his eyes at the light and wondering what the commotion was all about. The rain had frozen through the night and turned to snowflakes, the big kind that had already covered the car, the road, and the rooftops.

“Wow,” Castiel said softly, “First snow.” 

“Yeah,” Dean said, with a smile, crossing his arms around his abdomen to keep warm.“It’s kind of beautiful,” He caught Castiel’s eyes, noticing his cheeks were still pink with pleasure, his hair messy.  _ He  _ was beautiful. Dean wanted nothing more than to wrap him up in his arms and watch the snow fall. 

It was alright if Castiel knew that there had never been a phone call to Sam, or even a drink. Dean had been in the downstairs bathroom, biting down on his lip to stop himself from saying Castiel’s name as he came- thinking of his loved one doing the same thing upstairs. There was something unspoken and nameless between them now. It was more than friendship, and what Dean somewhat foolishly hoped was love. 

He was so relaxed he almost didn’t smell the change in Castiel’s room...but how could he not? The shampoo was still there, as was the smell of the room. This was the smell of sex. It became more evident as he ushered Castiel back to bed, pulling back the covers, and sliding Cas into his embrace before encasing them in the comforter. He almost didn’t need the blanket.  He couldn’t help but feel warm, even as the seasons changed outside.

Castiel laid there quietly in Dean’s arms for a long time. The question plagued at him, eating away at his insides.  _ I wonder if he was doing the same thing?  _

Dean was lost in an entire world of thought, even as he cradled Cas against him.  _ I want to tell you. Why can’t I just tell you? Why am I so fucking afraid? I’ve killed monsters. I’ve been through everything. So why this? Why you? Why are you my weakness? _

As the silence continued to fill the room, each of them lost in their own thoughts, Dean’s hand slipped down Castiel’s arm, and to his hand, pulling him the last little bit of the way to bridge the gap between them. As Castiel settled into the new position, Dean’s fingers slipped between Castiel’s, gently, carefully, as if to ask:   _ Is this okay? _

Castiel’s stomach fluttered. He didn’t shy away. He lay there in silence, nuzzled close to Dean. Ever so slowly, his fingers curled against Dean’s, holding his hand back.  _ Please don’t let go, Dean. Just hold me. Hold my hand. Never let me go.  _

Dean jumped just a little when Castiel’s hand closed around his, his own heartbeat pounding deafeningly. He didn’t want to say a word, didn’t want to lose this moment...wanted to have it to play back again and again. If ever there was anything to fight for…

Dean sighed, resting his head on top of Castiel’s,  _ You’re it, Cas. _

Minutes passed, and Dean was sure that Cas had fallen asleep. His thumb gently traced the outside of Castiel’s hand, soothing him, “Goodnight, beautiful,” he whispered into Castiel’s hair.

_ Goodnight Dean,  _ Castiel thought, not brave enough to say the words out loud. He did, however squeeze Dean’s hand just a little.  _ I think you’re beautiful too. I’m in love with you, Dean. Please say you’re in love with me, too. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I might start putting inspiration and some of the little easter eggs here. What do you guys think? ;)
> 
> When Dean mentions how John is never around, not even for Sammy's firsts, we wrote a little one shot. You can find it here.   
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/8063080
> 
> The episode of Buffy that Dean and Castiel are watching is from Season 2, titled "What's My Line: Pt II"
> 
> Songs featured in this Chapter:  
> Don't Stop Believin' by Journey


	4. November Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Thanksgiving at the Novak's house. 'Liquid courage' finally allows one of the boys to admit what it is that they're truly thankful for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for this chapter: Mature themes, Underage Drinking, Sexual Content
> 
> **Notes from the author:
> 
> Thank you all for being so wonderful, I absolutely adore the comments that you've been leaving- they keep me going. So, this chapter came out pretty fast- so I'm gonna publish EARLY due to some scheduling conflicts **season 12 of Supernatural comes out next week**. Usual posting times for this story should vary between a couple weeks and at the very latest a month. If it ever goes past that, I give you all permission to smack me and ask if I'm alive.  
> Also, on a more grumpy old writer note, I'm gonna say this again- please don't berate me for the sexual content/ages in this story. Realistically, this stuff happens. But, even so, this is fiction, and both parties are always aware and consenting of what's going on here. If you find yourself uncomfortable with the fact that it's high school, just mentally bump up their ages--I tend to not mention them very much for that reason.
> 
> As always, there are 'Easter Eggs' in this chapter...and I'm always interested to hear about any ideas or thoughts you have on the characters, or what will happen next- so PLEASE leave me a comment below. I love you all...thank you for being so inspiring.

 

* * *

* * *

_**Thanksgiving Weekend** _

_**November, 1998** _

 

Thanksgiving Day was a whole new world for both Dean and Sam. They’d arrived early, only to find that, true to Castiel’s word, Mrs. Novak was rushing around the kitchen like a madwoman, normally perfect hair slightly unkempt and falling out of it’s bun in a couple places.

The entire house smelled like, well, heaven. At least to Dean. He had to ask Castiel several times if it was time for dinner yet. Luckily, Mrs. Novak had prepared for such emergencies and had left various trays of goodies, finger foods, homemade dipping sauces, and punch out on the counter. “Help yourselves, boys, but don’t spoil dinner.” Dean didn’t feel bad sneaking a couple extra pigs in a blanket, because, well, his stomach had never really failed him before.

By mid-morning, Dean could smell pie, and he’d snuck a couple more finger foods to sate himself. The family began to arrive around ten, which allowed Dean to finally get away from Anna, who had so much to tell her cousins, who looked every bit as spoiled as she was. Castiel gave Dean and Sam the play-by-play of each family member as they arrived, although Sam was too busy with Ocarina of Time on the Nintendo 64 to even realize he was being spoken to. 

“That’s Uncle Dan and Aunt Nancy,” Castiel said, as he and Dean watched from the top of the stairs, listening to Sam yelling at the Nintendo every couple minutes, “Those are our cousins, Matt and Haley. Haley’s about Anna’s age so hopefully she’ll stop bothering you now,” Castiel said with a smile. It was something between them, their little secret that Dean hated her...though he still hadn’t said why he was dating her. “Cause, they have  _ so _ much to talk about. They only live like an hour away, but we never really see them. Aunt Nancy’s kind of a bitch to mom, and dad doesn’t like it.”

True enough, Aunt Nancy had brought her own contributions to dinner, which Mrs. Novak took with a smile, even though everyone around knew that there was no bigger offense than insulting her cooking.

“Alice, love,” Aunt Nancy said, “You look so flushed. Have you already been in the wine? I could help with dinner. It’s really no-”

“I’ve got it,” Mrs. Novak said, beaming, “Just sit down and make yourself at home. I made daiquiris, I know how much Dan likes them. There are virgin ones for the kids.”

“Well, Matthew just turned 21, so, I don’t mind if he drinks. Could you be a dear and make him another one?”

Matt ascended the stairs, “There you are,” he said, beaming at Castiel, “Who’s your friend?”

“Matt, this is Dean,” Castiel said, smiling proudly, as though Dean were his...which of course,  _ none _ of the family, not even his favorite cousin, needed to know, “He’s my best friend.” 

“Hey, Dean.”

Dean lifted one hand up, waving awkwardly.

“I brought you something,” Matt smiled, “Don’t tell my mom though, you know she hates giving gifts so close to Christmas.”

He handed Castiel a brown paper bag, and when Cas opened it, his eyes widened, “POKEMON STADIUM!?”

“Yeah, it’s the best. I got it cheap at the game store I’m working at. Wanna go give it a shot?”

Castiel frowned a little, “Maybe in a bit. Dean’s brother’s playing Ocarina right now, kinda promised him the Nintendo till dinner.”

“No problem. I should probably go do damage control, anyway. Good to meet you, Dean.”

“You, too.” Dean said.

They continued people watching, and Dean learned of Uncle Fred and Aunt Sharon, and cousins Heather, Amy, and Derek. 

Castiel’s dad was the youngest of four children, so most of the Aunts and Uncle’s kids were grown, or at least closer to Anna’s age than Castiel’s. Heather had a toddler and a baby, even. Dean felt glad that he and Castiel were confined upstairs, as the living room grew crowded with the extended family watching the Thanksgiving Day Parade. 

Dean and Castiel found it easy enough to tune out of the obnoxiously loud antics downstairs, and busied themselves instead with a game of uno at the top of the staircase, while they continued to share secrets between themselves.

Castiel learned that Dean used to steal food when his dad had been gone for too long, and that sometimes he secretly wished that Bobby was his dad instead of John; and, Dean learned that Castiel had once held hands with a girl named Stephanie in the second grade while they did couple’s skating, and that once Castiel had stolen a pack of Big Sweet-tart Chews and then cried when his mom caught him in the car. He’d only been four at the time. 

“Your turn,” Castiel said.

Dean raised his margarita glass full of daiquiri, “I swapped your Uncle Dan’s daiquiri for my virgin one. He’s acting like an ass all on his own.”

“Really?” Castiel said, his eyes widening as he drew another card, “I can’t believe you had the balls to do that right under my mom’s nose. If she would have caught you…” Castiel looked away as he admitted, “I’ve never had a drink before. Draw 4,” he said proudly, thrusting a “Draw 4” card into the pile.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean said, drawing cards before admitting, “That doesn’t surprise me, actually. You never drinking. Maybe we could change that,” he shrugged, “I mean, if you wanted.” It was pretty hard to imagine Castiel’s face even trying a beer. It made him nearly laugh to think of what he’d think of dad’s scotch or whiskey.

“I don’t know, Dean...what if we get caught?”

“We wouldn’t. My dad’s never home, and he keeps the liquor cabinet pretty well stocked, and he doesn’t give a damn if I drink.”

Castiel’s voice changed to excitement, “Could we?” Everything was exciting with Dean, even the things he knew he shouldn’t be doing. 

“Didn’t know you were so eager,” Dean teased. His cards were all shit. “But, I don’t see why not. You’ve never been to my place anyway.”

The thought of being in Dean’s bedroom made Castiel’s heart beat a little harder. He’d always wondered what his bedroom looked like. He’d always imagined lots of posters of classic cars and classic rock bands and maybe even some sexy girls. Was that what he pictured when he laid in bed at night, doing his nightly ritual? Was his room kept tidy or were there piles of dirty clothes everywhere? Would his room smell just like him, “Like, when?”  _ Besides, If I had some liquid courage, maybe I could do it. Maybe I could finally tell him.  _

Dean laughed, “I dunno Cas, sometime.”

“Link, you stupid fuck!” Sam yelled from the other room.

“Language,” Dean yelled back, half-heartedly...he was too busy wondering what side of Castiel might present itself if it were alcohol-induced.

“I guess I just want to try it,” Castiel said, picking up their conversation, “See what it feels like. Is it really as great as everyone makes it out to be?”

Dean shrugged, “For me, it’s just another thing that helps me sleep. It affects everyone differently, though.”

Castiel blushed a little, remembering what else Dean had said helped him sleep, “Like, how?”

“Well, look at your Uncle Dan. He uses it to get loud and belligerent. My dad gets a little violent before he passes out. It helps me sleep, it makes Sammy laugh. It just depends on the person, or sometimes the alcohol. Some people feel high, happy, or sad, or pissed off.” 

Castiel remembered seeing the scars on Dean’s arms and stomach. His train of thought derailed for a moment with his words.  _ Dean, does your dad hit you? _ God, he couldn’t even bring himself to ask the question. 

He tried to pull himself back on track, though he sounded a little apprehensive as he said, “Oh...I wonder what it’ll do to me.” He paused for a moment, “Hey, Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?”

“I meant to ask you when we were talking about...y’know…” Castiel blushed, peeking around to make sure no one could hear… “About...sex….”

“Mm?” Dean asked.

“Not that I plan on...well...doing...anything...but I was just curious. How do you...erm...know, when to do it?”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, cocking his head.

“I mean…” Castiel was blushing hard now, “Do you ask the person, or does it just...happen?”

“I guess it depends on the person and what they mean to you. If it’s a relationship, a lot of times it’s discussed beforehand. If it’s a fling or a one night stand or some shit, it usually just happens intentionally. Sometimes, it just...happens in the middle of everything.”

“Did you talk about it with the people you…?” He felt humiliated asking these kinds of questions, but there was truly no one else he could ask.

“No,” Dean smiled, “Not with most of them. It kind of happened.”

“And that’s how you like it?”

“I guess,” he agreed. “I mean, if it just happens, then you both want it to happen. It’s more romantic that way, and there’s the element of surprise. I guess, when you’re ready, you just know. And if the other person isn’t ready, then you wait for them. Gonna tell me who she is yet?”

_ It’s not a ‘she’, Dean. It’s you. I can’t stop thinking about you.  _ Castiel shook his head, “Uno.”

* * *

 

It was nearly two in the afternoon by the time Mrs. Novak had completely finished dinner, and as Dean sat at the card table with Castiel, he didn’t regret waiting.

Finally, the elusive Mr. Novak came out of the kitchen, bearing the biggest turkey Dean had ever seen, with Mrs. Novak crowding behind him.

Mrs. Novak’s parents were present, and positively beaming, whereas Castiel’s grandparents on his dad’s side stayed in Florida.

“Alice, you’ve outdone yourself,” Castiel’s grandmother said, “That’s a beautiful, turkey. You’re a lucky man, Chuck.”

“Damn, right he is,” said Castiel’s grandfather, “Now, say, Chuck, let’s get this turkey carved.”

Dean was so lost from so many family members gathered that his head was spinning. It was obvious that, like most in-laws and even blood relatives, there was some bad blood between some of them, but (with the help of alcohol) they’d pushed it all aside to come together. And to think, John couldn’t even be bothered to be home. Dean stood up.

“Dean?” Castiel asked, grabbing his sleeve as the rest of the family began to make their way to their seats.

“I’ll be back,” he said with a smile, “Don’t worry.” He walked up to Mrs. Novak, but it was too loud for Castiel to hear what he was saying. She nodded and pointed, and Castiel watched as Dean walked past he and Sam again and down the hallway.

Dean closed the door to Mr. Novak’s study, picking up the phone and dialing a number. The phone rang twice and then paused, “This is John Winchester, leave a message.” The phone beeped.

“Hey, dad, it’s Dean. Nothing’s wrong or anything, don’t worry. Guess I just thought I’d try reaching you. I hope things are going well and you get a break soon. Sammy’s fine and I’m fine, so don’t worry about us, you know I can handle it.” He paused, “Guess what I really wanted to say was Happy…” the phone beeped again, and hung up. The message had been too long. Dean sighed, hanging it up, “Happy Thanksgiving, dad.”

 

* * *

 

When Dean returned, the turkey had been carved, and the table was complete with ham, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, corn, stuffing, gravy and homemade dinner rolls. Sam motioned for Dean to join him in line. 

The younger Winchester brother’s plate was already heaping full by the time he got to the middle of the table, and he’d started piling food on top of other food, which caused Cas to laugh, “There’ll be more, Sam, and mom’s gonna send you and Dean home with some. We never eat it all.”

Mrs. Novak placed a piece of turkey on top of Sam’s pile, then on Castiel’s plate and Dean’s, “Don’t forget to save room for dessert, there’s plenty of it.”

Dean’s eyes instinctively trailed to the dessert table, where  there was banana pudding, a chocolate cake, a strawberry cake, three different kinds of cookies, and seven different kinds of pie.  His mouth started watering, which made Mrs. Novak light up.

“There’s always room for pie, Mrs. Novak,” Dean said with a smile, as they finished getting their food, and headed back to one of the three card tables set up for the younger generations.

Anna sat at one table with her cousins, who kept looking over at Dean and giggling, which made Dean feel very uncomfortable as he tried to focus on all of the food he was about to consume. 

Mrs. Novak grabbed the attention of the entire family as she tapped her spoon on her wine glass, “All right, before we get started, let’s all go around the table and say what we’re thankful for.”

The suggestion was met with groans from Anna’s table, a snarky look from Aunt Nancy, and Dean with his heart pounding as he looked at Castiel. Shouldn’t he say he was thankful for Anna? Even if he wasn’t?

Chuck caught the situation with a smile, “Oh, come on, sweetheart,” he said, holding her hand, “We all know what we’re thankful for, let’s not let the food get cold.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile when he saw Mrs. Novak blush, like she and her husband were still in school- high school sweethearts. His gaze turned to Castiel, wondering if there was any chance that someday, they might end up like that as well.

“I’m thankful for you guys,” Castiel said with a smile, “Thank you for coming.”

“I’m thankful for you, too, Cas,” Dean said, before hissing, “-Sam!” He kicked his brother’s shin from under the table. 

Sam had picked up his turkey leg and was proceeding to eat like a barbarian who hadn’t seen food in months. He was so engrossed in the food that he hadn’t even acknowledged Castiel.

“Ow, Dean,” Sam whined, loudly.

“Seriously? Can’t you eat like a human being for once?” Dean was blushing, hard. Of course, when Castiel thought about it, Dean must feel like it was a personal insult when Sam embarrassed him, because he’d been the one to raise him.

“It’s fine, Dean,” Castiel said, laughing, “My mom loves when people appreciate her cooking.”

“Besides, I am eating like a human being.” Sam finished.

Castiel chimed in again, “Don’t forget to save room for pie.”

“There’s  _ always _ room for pie,” Dean said confidently.

However, by the time dinner was drawing to a close, Dean was feeling it...more full than he could ever remember being in his life. He was pretty sure that even though it was only two in the afternoon, any and all food was out of the question for at least the rest of the day. 

He looked at the pie table, and his head felt fuzzy, and his stomach strained against his pants. He groaned. 

“Where’s your pie, Dean?” Sam said, returning with a whole plateful of dessert, taking a bite of blueberry pie. 

“Yeah Dean?” Castiel asked, with a significantly smaller dessert plate of his own, taking a bite of pumpkin pie, “Do you want some of mine while the line’s still long?” 

Dean put his napkin on the table, leaning back in his chair and allowing his stomach some room to stretch, “Nope...that’s it, I’m done...calling it in.”

“No pie?” Sam and Castiel said in unison, both in shock. 

“Shut it,” Dean said, groaning.

 

* * *

 

 

After dinner was the football game, which Castiel courteously asked if Dean wanted to watch. After a relieving ‘no’, they all three retreated back upstairs into Castiel’s room, where Sam made himself at home again on the Nintendo 64.

“Are they all spending the night?” Dean teased, hearing the adults yelling at the football game even louder than the volume Sam had the game at.

“No, thankfully,” Castiel said, pushing his glasses up, “Mom, and dad and Anna are leaving tonight, too, to go Black Friday shopping in Minneapolis. It’s a whole ordeal, they drive at night and shop early in the morning. They won’t be back until Saturday or Sunday, depending on the deals.”

“And you aren’t going with them? Sammy, turn that down.”

Sam groaned, turning the N-64 down a whole two clicks.

“I don’t like shopping,” Castiel shrugged, “Besides, it’s pretty awesome that mom let you and Sam spend the night tonight. Way better than being stuck in a car with Anna for four hours.”

Dean half nodded. He couldn’t argue with that.

“Castiel!” Mrs. Novak called, “Aunt Sharon and Uncle Fred are leaving, come say goodbye.”

“They never stay for the game,” Castiel rolled his eyes, “I’ll be right back. Duty calls. Or, in this case, my mom.”

Cas had no more than shut the door before Dean swiped the controller out of Sam’s hand and paused the game.

“Hey!” Sam yelled, reaching for the controller.

“You’re sick.”

“What?”

“You’re really, really sick, and I need to take you home, right now.”

“Why?” Sam asked, suspiciously.

“I love you, little brother, but nothing says ‘cockblock’ as much as your baby brother snoring on the floor next to you.”

“Ew, you’re going to have sex with Cas?”

“No.” Dean said, almost too quickly, as if he was trying to convince himself, “I just really need you to do this for me. Please?”

Sam’s eyes narrowed, still unconvinced.

“His parents are leaving for a couple days, Sam.”

“Yeah, but there’s a Nintendo,” he smirked, “Come on Dean, you know you’re going to have to bribe me.”

Dean looked at the door. He really didn’t have time for this. Castiel could be back any second. He let out a sigh, “What do you want, Sammy?”

“First, I want you to bring home pie.”

“Done.” Easy enough, Mrs. Novak had already planned on sending them home with a mountain of food.

“I want some of dad’s beer.”

“Fine.”  _ I’ll just buy more the next time. I have to restock before he comes home, anyway. _

“And new skin mags, Dean. Not the crappy kind.”

“Done,” Dean said hurriedly, “Do you have any more demands?”

“Nah, that should be good,” Sam said contentedly, reaching for the controller as Dean dropped it into his hands. Sam had barely gotten back into the game before Dean heard Castiel’s footsteps coming up the stairs.

“You better make it convincing.”

Sam shot him a look as if to say  _ do you really doubt me?  _

“Sorry, guys, didn’t mean to take so long. What’s going on?” Sam and Dean were both looking at him.

“I don’t feel so good,” Sam said, whining pitifully, “I think I ate too much. I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“I told you not to eat that last plate of…”

“Don’t say it, Dean,” Sam whined.

“Well, I did.”

“I can get my mom,” Castiel offered, “See if we have some medicine or something. You could lay down on my bed.”

Dean frowned, sighing, “Maybe I should just take him home, Cas. I’ve seen Sammy throw up and it’s not very pretty. Great timing, baby brother.”

“I’m sorry, Dean. It was too much food.” 

Sometimes it perturbed Dean how well Sammy could act. He actually looked sick, his face was even growing paler. It was a good thing the kid liked school and never really tried to play hooky. 

“I’m sorry, Cas, I didn’t mean to ruin your sleepover…” Sam groaned, as Dean helped him up.

Castiel realized that his disappointment must have been showing on his face and did his best to brush it off, “It’s okay, Sam, don’t worry about it. I hope you feel better.”

“I’ll be okay, as long as I don’t throw up in dad’s car.”

“I’ll come with you downstairs, and get a bag from mom, just in case.”

Sam nodded.

As they walked downstairs, Sam still looking pitiful, Dean turned to Cas, “I really am sorry, Cas. Raincheck?”

Castiel nodded, “Sure, maybe next weekend or something.”

“Yeah. Hey, when are your parents leaving? I could at least call, so you’re not by yourself.”

“Around sevenish, after everyone leaves and dishes are done.”

“I’ll call you then.”

“Okay, Dean.”

Mrs. Novak sent them off with a bag, promising that Dean could swing back by for leftovers whenever he wanted once she’d had them set aside. She apologized that Sam wasn’t feeling well, and then let them leave. Castiel sat on the porch as Dean drove off with Sam.

“You’re a dick, Dean. Did you see how crushed he looked?”

Dean turned on the radio, blaring it over Sam, trying to ignore the fact that yes, he did notice Castiel looking almost like he was about to cry. It wasn’t like he wasn’t coming back.

 

* * *

 

After his parents had left, the house was almost too quiet for Castiel, who attempted to study, before playing Pokemon Stadium, before playing music instead. In the end, he ended up in Dean’s leather jacket, in bed with the phone clutched in his hand, dialing Balthazar.  
“Cassie?” Balthazar asked, frantically from the other end. He obviously had his hands full of his own Thanksgiving festivities. The Roche family always did their Thanksgivings late, due to Balthazar’s dad’s work schedule. It was only ever the two of them, anyway. “No,” he said, his hand obviously covering the receiver of the phone, “Put the bird over there, in the kitchen. Hershal will move it when he gets back with dad. Watch the vase. Don’t break anything. Sorry, Cassie, caterers aren’t in the best of moods today.”

Castiel couldn’t imagine having to work on Thanksgiving, and couldn’t exactly blame them, “It’s okay. Happy Thanksgiving, Balthazar. Is your dad home yet?”

“Not yet. He got caught at the airport, I guess business doesn’t even stop for the holidays. Hershal left to get him about twenty minutes ago.”

“Well, hopefully he’ll be home soon. I’m sorry to interrupt your Thanksgiving.”

“You’re not interrupting anything, Cassie. Wait, aren’t you supposed to be busy? Did your parents already leave?”

“Yeah, almost an hour ago. Dean and Sam were supposed to spend the night, but, Sam got sick, so Dean had to take him home.”

“So you’re all alone, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty quiet.”

“I could come over after dinner,” Balthazar offered.

“No, it’s fine. Your dad hasn’t been home in a while. I know you missed him.”

“Cassie, still, I could…”

Castiel smiled, “I’ll be okay. I got a new game, and mom and dad left me money for pizza and stuff, so I’ll find something to do.” Castiel ran his fingers over the leather of Dean’s jacket, “I think I figured out when I’m going to tell him, Balthazar.”

There was silence on the other end. Balthazar never seemed too enthused of conversations about Dean,  _ probably because they were so different _ , Castiel thought. Still, he listened. He was a good friend. 

“...Oh?”

“Well, we were talking, and I told him that I’d never had a drink before and he said ‘maybe we could change that.’ If I just had a bit of liquid courage I think maybe I could tell him. But, what if I’m wrong? What if it changes things between us in a bad way?” Castiel got up, beginning to pace, “I mean, he did hold my hand and call me beautiful and hold me through the night, but what if it was in a friend way?” 

“Drink. As in, alcohol?” 

“Yeah, I mean, it’s not really a big deal. Dean does it all the time, and you drink wine with your dad. He’d be here to make sure I was okay.”

“Cassie, you’re fifteen. You don’t need to be drinking, period. If it’s that important to you, just tell him. ‘Liquid courage’ or what have you won’t change the outcome. He’ll react how he wants to react. Please don’t do anything stupid. Alcohol is a depressant, Cassie, you know I…”

“Hold on, Balthazar,” Castiel whispered into the receiver as a knock came at the door, “Someone’s at the door. What if it’s a murderer?” he said anxiously, slipping off Dean’s jacket and creeping down the stairs.

Balthazar couldn’t help but laugh, “A murderer, Cassie? Have you been watching scary movies?”

The knock came again. Castiel tiptoed, looking through the peephole, and breathing a sigh of relief, “It’s just Dean, he must’ve forgot something, I gotta go.”

He put the cordless on the end table by the door, before opening the door with a smile, “Hey, Dean, did you forget something?”

“I have a confession to make,” Dean said sheepishly, brushing by Castiel and letting himself in. 

Castiel’s mind raced, thinking of the conversation he’d just had with Balthazar. Yep, he was definitely gonna need liquid courage first,  _ Oh god, what kind of confession? _

“Yeah,” Castiel managed to choke out without his voice cracking.

“So, Sam’s not really sick.”

Castiel looked confused.

“I thought that maybe since your parents were gonna be gone for the weekend, we could do that thing that we were talking about.”

They’d talked about a lot of things, so few of them remotely appropriate.  _ Kissing? Touching? Fucking? Oh God, what the hell were we talking about?  _

“What do you mean?” Castiel asked, voice cracking this time. 

“Let’s go upstairs,” Dean smiled, closing the front door behind them and starting upstairs with his football bag slung over his shoulder.

_ Is he serious? Fuck. What if I’m not ready. No, no… _ Castiel tried to calm himself down  _ I’m totally ready. Just like we talked about earlier. _

Once they got upstairs, Dean sat his football bag on the floor, unzipping it, and rummaging.

_ What does he have in there? Sex toys? Condoms? Lube? All of the above? _

“I figured we should probably go ahead and get the worst part of it over with now, since you’re so curious,” Dean teased.

“Oh...okay…” Castiel said, all of his nerves coming up so fast that he felt like he might be sick. He couldn’t help but think of everything that Dean had said. There were so many ways to be bad at it.  _ No teeth, _ Castiel thought.  _ No...god, what else? _

What Dean pulled from his bag was a half full bottle of Jack Daniels, and two tupperware containers. He unscrewed the cap off the Jack, and handed Castiel the bottle.

“Oh,” Castiel said, letting out all the breath in his lungs.  _ Drinking...duh, Castiel… _

He didn’t get too much relief, remembering what he’d promised himself.  _ So it’s gonna be tonight. You’re gonna tell him tonight with your liquid courage. _ He felt sick with nerves.

“Go for it,” Dean encouraged.

Castiel nodded, taking a big gulp, not realizing just how strong Jack was. He choked, coughing immediately. It was by far the worst thing he had ever tasted in his life.

Dean started laughing as Castiel’s face contorted with disgust, “Who the hell drinks this stuff?”

“I do,” Dean smiled.

“It tastes like gasoline.” He handed the bottle back to Dean. He couldn’t stomach the stuff, even if it was his liquid courage.

“I thought you might feel that way. But, I figured you’d ask to try what I drink. So I thought ‘what the hell’. But, lucky for you, there’s a back-up plan.” Dean laughed, popping the lid off of one of the tupperware containers.

Inside were three rows of multicolored, miniature cups of Jell-O.

“Your backup plan is...Jell-O?”

“They’re Jell-O shots, Jell-O and vodka. I think a bit more up your alley. If not, we don’t have to do this. We could do something else,” Dean said, handing him a red one.

Castiel stared at it for a second, before tipping it back, letting it slide in his mouth and down his throat. He still made a bit of a face, but smiled, “They’re not half bad. Pretty good, actually.”

Dean smiled, “Made them at home. Might not seem like much, but, they pack a pretty decent punch, so, probably best not to drink all of them,” Dean warned, before handing him another.

He watched as Castiel’s face scrunched up again.

“You know, we really don’t have to do this. It’s okay if you don’t like it. A lot of people don’t like the taste.”

“No,” Castiel said quickly, holding his third Jell-O shot out of Dean’s reach, “I...I like them. I want to do this.”  _ I need my liquid courage! I need to tell you Dean! _

He thought about it in his head,  _ I’m in love with you, Dean. _

His heart raced, and the sick feeling returned, _ Nope, gonna need a lot more than this. _

“So, what do you do while you drink? Don’t people usually play drinking games?”

Dean shrugged, “Different things. Some people don’t really do anything. Others play drinking games, some dance, some sing. You gonna sing for me?” He teased, making Castiel blush.

“We could dance…” Castiel said, still red, “You can pick something out,” he motioned to his huge stack of CDs.

While Dean’s back was turned, Castiel took a Jell-O shot into each hand.

_ Dean, I’m in love with you…..nope….are these things even working? I don’t feel any different.  _

“Cas, I’m really gonna need to buy you some CDs.”  He flipped through wrong CD, after wrong CD, many of the artists he didn’t even know. Like, who the hell was B*Witched, or Dream?  _ N*Sync, hell no. Backstreet Boys...ugh. Cher...really... _ Cher _?  _ How could one person have what was probably hundreds of CDs and almost no taste in music. He was relieved to find some oldies in the pile, but it wasn’t enough to redeem the nightmare that was the rest of the music, in the form of bubblegum pop

“I just got the NOW CD,” Castiel said, “That sounds good. Turn it to the end.”

Dean took a few minutes to get the CD in, the volume up loud, but not too loud, and when he’d turned back around, at least eight shots were missing from the tupperware. He grabbed the one that Castiel was holding out of his hand, “Woah, there, easy tiger. That’ll do it. I’m gonna go put the rest of these in the fridge.”

Castiel giggled, “Okay, Dean.” He got up, and harmlessly enough began dancing to ‘Sex & Candy’.

It had been so long since Dean had been really, truly drunk that he’d forgotten how fast and hard it hit for a first timer. He couldn’t help but chuckle. 12ish shots? Oh yeah, Cas was definitely going to be feeling it.

 

* * *

 

 

“Balthy, answer your phone…” Castiel said, impatiently at the ringing tone. It was lonely while Dean was gone, and it was taking forever for him to come back. He swayed his hips as he waited.

“Cassie?” Balthazar asked, amongst the clatter of silverware. He was obviously in the middle of Thanksgiving Dinner.

“Balthy….” Castiel giggled at his own shortening of Balthazar’s name, “Balthy, I have my liquid courage now.” He poked the phone, “I’m going to tell him.”

There was only a brief silence for Balthazar’s hatred of the nickname, “Cassie?” Came a worried voice, “Are you...are you drunk?”

“Shhhhhh….” Castiel giggled, whispering into the phone, “It’s a secret, don’t tell anyone. I’m gonna tell Dean. But I need your help. How do I tell him I love him?”

“He got you  _ drunk _ ?” Balthazar hissed into the phone.

“Balthazar, come on, you can call Cassie back after dinner,” Mr. Roche’s voice came from across the room.

“No, I’m not drunk, silly,” Castiel vowed. “I just got my liquid courage, so I can tell him.”

“I’m coming over.”

“You can’t come over. What if we’re…” there was more giggling, “What if we’re  _ kissing _ ?”

“Balthazar. Is everything okay?” Mr. Roche asked.

“Tell him I’m fine,” Castiel begged.

“He just got lonely because his parents are gone,” Balthazar lied.

“How do I tell him, Balthy?” 

“You don’t. Not now. Not like this. Please just listen to me, Cassie, please. I have to go...but I’ll call you back after dinner.”

“Hey,” Dean said, coming back, alarmed to see the cordless in Castiel’s hand, “Who are you…?” He hissed.

“It’s okay Dean, it’s just Balthy.”

Dean grabbed the phone, “Shit, Balthazar, he’s fine…”

“Dean-” Balthazar said on the other end of the phone, “Dad, I’ll be back.”

A couple seconds later, Balthazar returned, “Dean, I swear to-”

“Relax, Balthazar, he’s fine, I’m here...better to do it at home than…”

“He’s  _ fifteen _ Dean. Just because you’re an ape doesn’t mean  _ he  _ is. God, what the hell were you even thinking!? For fucksake, he’s calling me  _ Balthy _ ”

“He’s fine, Balthazar…” Dean repeated, “And don’t pretend like you’re not drinking a glass of expensive champagne at your Thanksgiving dinner.”

“That’s different, Dean. Cassie is completely blitzed.” 

“At his house. In his room. With me. Why don’t you just get off the phone, enjoy your catered turkey dinner, and just let him have fun.”

“You just don’t get it, do you? No, how stupid of me. How could you?”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“That you’re a sodding idiot.”

“Good _ bye _ , ‘Balthy’,” Dean said, rolling his eyes and hanging up the phone, “Cas, you can’t just…” he sighed, “I’m gonna put the phone up, no more phone calls, okay?”

“Okay, Dean, just dancing.”

 

* * *

 

 

After the alcohol had fully taken effect, Dean was growing wary. Maybe this had been an entirely bad idea. Castiel was stumbling all over himself, giggling at every other word- and while it had been almost funny to see Sam like this for the first time, it was deeply concerning with Castiel. Castiel never let loose. Not like this. He’d knocked a vast majority of his CDs onto the floor, and was scrambling through them, before putting another one into the CD player. 

“I  _ love _ this song.”

Ludacris’  _ Fantasy  _ began playing. Castiel's face was flush from both the alcohol and a little embarrassment. He began dancing, swaying his hips to the ‘yeah’s’ of the song. 

Dean, having a pretty limited variety of music and sticking mostly to the classics and occasional oldies, had never even heard of Ludacris. Honestly, it wasn’t even the rap replacing Cas’ normal bubblegum pop that surprised him the most. His ears began to pick up on what the song was actually saying, and his heart began to pound, jolts of lust going straight downward as he watched Castiel dance to the song that said-

_ I wanna, li-li-li-lick you from yo' head to yo' toes _

_ And I wanna, move from the bed down to the down to the to the flo' _

_ Then I wanna, ahh ahh - you make it so good I don't wanna leave _

_ But I gotta, kn-kn-kn-know what-what's your fan-ta-ta-sy _

“Jesus, Cas.” The words slipped out before he could shut his mouth to stop them. He didn’t think that any of his own songs were this blatantly  _ sinful _ . Sure,  _ Cherry Pie _ wasn’t that innocent- but it was all innuendos and skating around the dirty bits.  _ This _ left nothing to the imagination except what Castiel would look like as Dean got him out of his clothes and fulfilled every single one of those fantasies.

“What?” Castiel giggled, “It’s a good song. My mom can’t know about this CD though.  Shh…it’s a secret,” he pressed a finger to his lips and it sent a shiver down Dean’s spine.

Castiel swayed his body with the music, feeling more and more fuzzy,  _ God I love this song. I want Dean to fuck me in the backseat windows up. I want to kiss him. Why am I not kissing him yet? _

Dean was sitting back against the headboard of Castiel’s bed, not really drunk or even buzzed on the little bit of Jack he was nursing. His eyes were intensely on Castiel, following his every movement. Now, more than ever, he wished he could dance without stepping all over Cas...that he could take those hips in his hands, and drag him close. The thought alone had him growing a little hard in his jeans. 

Even if he could dance...even if he had the chance, he couldn’t do it. Not like this. He could barely remember his first time being drunk. He remembered that he’d knocked over a set of chairs. He remembered dad’s hunting buddies getting a kick out of whatever it was he was doing while the room danced around him. Dad told that story a lot, when he was around, enough that Dean knew that the end of it had been dad picking him up, and putting him to bed...but, he couldn’t remember anything after the spinning. So, even if he could have the moment with Cas, without the repercussions, he wouldn’t take it...wouldn’t take Cas like this.

_ No. If it happens, I want you to remember every touch...every kiss...every word that I say to you. Even if you look this sexy while you dance, it won’t be tonight. Have your fun. _

“You’re so drunk,” Dean teased.

“I am not,” Castiel insisted, dancing closer to the bed, “Come dance with me.” 

_ Put your hands all over me Dean. Please. I need you,  _ Castiel wanted to beg. 

“I don’t dance,” Dean smiled, shaking his head. His hands twitched, wanting to reach for Cas again. Instead, he took another sip of Jack.

“Then I’ll dance with you,” Castiel giggled, straddling Dean’s lap, still dancing. “I really love this song” 

_ Please Dean, don’t push me away. Want to kiss you so much. I need to tell you.  _

“Cas…” Dean whispered, his heart stopping, “What are you doing?”

“Dancing,” Castiel said, in an innocent enough tone, though his smile looked anything but, “Dean...I have another secret to tell.” 

For once, Dean was still, like a deer in headlights, unsure of what to do. His eyes were wide as he stared up at Cas, who was straddling his lap, thinking:  _ What is he doing?? What could he possibly be thinking…? _

He didn’t realize his hands had instinctively moved to Castiel’s hips. He felt his voice shake just a bit, “Y...yeah, Cas?”

Castiel couldn’t say the words. His lips touched Dean’s before he pulled away, his eyes questioning if it was okay, and also begging that it was. 

“You, Dean. It’s been you this whole time.” 

Dean had pictured this moment a thousand times over in his head, thinking how their first kiss would be, or how Dean would finally admit his feelings. Never, in handfuls of run throughs of this moment, did Dean ever think that this would be how it happened. His heart simultaneously swelled, and combusted.

Cas was obviously more than a little drunk. Castiel Novak, sober, would never play that song in front of Dean...he would never dance like that near Dean, never sit in his lap like this, and most definitely never kiss him. It was almost as though he was a different person entirely. “Wh...what?” 

“You’re my crush, Dean. This whole time it’s been you,” Castiel whispered, before his lips pressed against Dean’s again.  _ God, he feels so good. Touch me. Please Dean. Say you want me, too.  _ His hands ran over the muscles of Dean’s arms before wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck. He felt himself starting to get hard in Dean’s lap, and he sighed softly against his lips. 

Everything in Dean told him to push Castiel off of him, to tell him ‘not like this’, and pretend the whole goddamn mess had never happened. He should have been the one to tell Castiel, so much sooner than this. Then, this would have been different. If the feelings were really there, and they’d admitted them before this moment, this could be laughed about, played with- just Dean getting Cas drunk and him being a little promiscuous...maybe more than ‘a little’.

What happened instead was his body’s natural reaction to being kissed by the guy he was in love with. His hands tightened on Cas’ hips, grinding against him as he pulled him tightly to him. His tongue pushed past Castiel’s lips, invading his mouth, breathing in the way he tasted. He couldn’t stifle the sound- full of want, need, and months of suppressed feelings- that escaped against Castiel’s mouth. Now he was so hard that he ached, and feeling the friction of Castiel on top of him wasn’t doing anything to help the situation.

“Oh God, Dean,” Castiel moaned against his mouth, grinding his hips against him. His body was shaking against Dean’s. His arms wrapped tighter around him, desperate for something to hold onto. His tongue explored Dean’s mouth eagerly despite the taste of Jack. Jack tasted damn good as long as it was on Dean. 

Dean found himself on a roller coaster of hormones and desire. He needed this. Needed Castiel so badly that his body and its desperation was continuing to override his common sense and brain. The words ‘not like this’ were pushed back so far, that Dean couldn’t hear them anymore. His head was spinning and everything was racing around him. He felt drunk, even though he knew he wasn’t. One of his hands had moved up Castiel’s back, and had found itself buried in messy, dark hair as his tongue continued to dance with Cas’, committing both taste and texture to memory.

“Oh God Dean, you're so big,” Castiel moaned, rocking his hips down on Dean. “Don't stop. Don't stop kissing me.” 

_ Is he really that big? How is that even supposed to fit? But he's hard. Hard for me. He wants me too.  _

Dean’s cock twitched at the compliment, aching to show Castiel how big it was, and what it was capable of doing to him. The words also felt wrong. They kickstarted Dean’s brain, and he remembered that Castiel wasn’t exactly in his right mind. He attempted to gently move Cas off of him by the hips, “Cas, we shouldn’t. Not like this,” he said breathlessly, his body still fighting for control.  _ Take him. Show him what it means to be yours.  _ “Not like this.” He managed again, though his lips were only a fraction of an inch away from Cas’ still.

“Why Dean?” Castiel begged, his hands running along Dean’s muscles again, “Please, I need you Dean. I need you so much.” 

He kissed Dean again hungrily, before his lips broke away and trailed over to his neck, licking, sucking, biting gently. 

Dean’s hands flew up, gripping Castiel’s arms as his hips pushed against him, their cocks sliding against each other through their jeans. The friction was enough to have Dean panting, moaning, “Fuck....” he whispered, straining against the jeans- needing them gone...now.

“Fuck,” Castiel repeated, moaning against Dean’s ear. His hips moved on Dean more, desperately. His arms clung tight around Dean, burying his face in Dean’s neck before he was kissing him again, his lips frantic. 

_ God Dean, I need you. Don’t stop touching me. Please, I...fuck. _

Dean felt his own cock sticking against him, damp from the precome. He fumbled his fingers against Castiel’s hips half-heartedly trying to push him off out of chivalry, the other half just needing to fuck, becoming increasingly aware of how long it had been since he’d been touched by someone else. “Cas…” he practically begged- unsure even himself whether he was begging for Cas to stop this before he couldn’t anymore, or for him to keep going, consequence be damned.

“Dean,” Castiel moaned in return,  _ He actually said my name.  _ He worked his hips against Dean’s, panting, when suddenly his body froze, shaking in Dean’s arms as he clutched tighter to Dean. “Oh God, Dean!” 

Dean’s eyes widened, “C-Cas...are you...did you...??”  _ Oh, fuck...fuck. I think he just came. Oh, god.  _ He didn’t have to wonder long, before he inhaled the smell of Castiel’s come filling the room. He grabbed onto Castiel harder this time, rolling him off immediately, panicking. He felt like such an asshole. It was Castiel’s first time. His first kiss. His first time coming with someone else...and he was drunk.  _ Way to fuck everything up, just like you usually do, Dean.  _ “I…”

“Dean, I’m sorry,” Castiel said quickly, his face flushed from both passion and embarrassment, “Are you mad at me?” 

_ I’m so sorry. Please don’t be mad at me Dean. I didn’t mean to. Please don’t be mad at me Dean… _

“No…” Dean said quietly. It was himself that he was mad at, for letting it go so far...for taking something that should have been special for Castiel, and ruining it on a night that he more than likely wouldn’t even remember, “No, baby, I’m not mad at you.”

Dean felt his face heat up immensely.  _ Did I just call him baby? The fuck, Dean? Pull your shit together.  _

Dean ran his fingers a couple times through Castiel’s hair, wanting to comfort him, and reassure him, even when he was confused himself. It was hard to even think with his cock rock hard in his jeans, “Give me a minute, okay? I have to...I have to pee.”  _ Bullshit. _

He couldn’t get in the bathroom fast enough, locking the door and resting against the back of it, trying to process what the hell had just happened between them. He heard the bed shuffle, and Castiel get up, but no more footsteps after that.

He let out a deep breath, unfastening his belt and pulling his pants and boxers down over his hips, his cock bouncing free, swollen and hard from how much it needed release. He felt almost guilty doing it, but knew that if he didn’t, he might not have it in him to push Castiel off if he were to try touching him.

He couldn’t remember being so sensitive to touch in a long time as he wrapped his hand around his cock, whimpering, and going to stand by the toilet. For once, it wasn’t a made up fantasy that was getting him hot, and hard and sticky- it was the image of Castiel Novak on top of him, dancing on him like he was riding him. It was the way Castiel Novak’s tongue felt against his, desperate and eager to please. It was the way his lips quivered right before he couldn’t stifle one of those fucking beautiful noises that he made. It was the way that Castiel Novak  _ said his fucking name _ when he came.

“Fuck….Cas...fuck,  _ fuck _ ….” he let go as quietly as he could, making as little of a mess as he could. Even the thoughts alone had his legs shaking so hard that they may as well have been the Jell-O that he’d given Castiel earlier. 

When he walked back into the room, his cheeks were flushed, his arms shaking. He was so angry with himself for this. For all of this _. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to fucking do. _

Castiel had left his come-covered boxer briefs along with the rest of his clothes in a pile in the middle of the floor and managed to stumble into a pair of pajamas. He was sitting on the edge of the bed. His face was still red with embarrassment. He tried to speak but nothing came out. He cleared his throat. 

“Dean? I...I’m really sorry Dean.” 

_ No, Cas. No...I’m sorry. This is all my fault. I should’ve told you. I should have told you so much sooner.  _

“Hey, don’t you worry, Cas…” Dean said, hesitantly sitting down beside Castiel, about another person’s distance away, “You can sleep it off...you’re just coming down off the buzz now. It’s okay.” He ignored everything that had just happened, unsure what he could possibly say now to make anything between them feel alright.

Castiel was quiet for a few minutes. He was highly aware of the distance between them now, both physically and emotionally.  _ I’ve ruined it  now. I’ve ruined everything. God, how could I have been so stupid to think that this would actually work?  _

“It’s not ok,” he whispered, and his eyes brimmed with tears, a few escaping down his cheeks, “I’ve ruined everything, Dean. I didn’t mean to. I just thought...I thought if I had my liquid courage that I could tell you. I didn’t mean for this to happen and I’m so sorry. I understand. If you want to go, If you don’t want to be friends anymore. I...I understand Dean. Or if you just want me to sleep downstairs on the couch tonight. Just tell me Dean. I want to make things alright between us again.”

“Shh,” Dean hushed Castiel, pulling him closer, letting his head fall on his shoulder. Dean began running his fingers through his hair. “You haven’t ruined anything. Come morning, you won’t even remember any of this. I’m not going anywhere. C’mere, Cas…” 

Although Dean didn’t know what or how he could even begin to fix it if Castiel did remember in the morning, he couldn’t bring himself to let Castiel worry about any of that weight. This was Dean’s fault...all of it. He’d just fucked things up, like always. 

He pulled the blankets back, before reaching up and pulling the drawstring to the light, letting the room go black, “Lay down and let me hold you. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t ever have to worry about that.”

Castiel laid down and didn’t even bother pulling the covers up before he clutched onto Dean, a few tears falling on his shirt. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you Dean.” 

“Cas…”  _ Sweetheart. _ “Don’t cry.” His rough fingertips caught a few rogue tears, “Please don’t cry. I’m sorry.”  _ I’m sorry that I wasn’t thinking...that I stole your first kiss, for so many things, Cas. I’m sorry. _

Castiel laid there for a few minutes before he was able to dry his eyes. He was quiet, unsure if he should ask his next question, if it would make things better or worse between them. 

“Dean?” 

“Yeah, Cas?” 

“Would it be alright if I kissed you goodnight? Just a goodnight kiss? Not a carried away kiss like before,” he tried to clarify, “You don’t have to. If it’s too much to ask.”

Dean was quiet for a few minutes, his mind full of inner turmoil. He wanted desperately to say yes...to feel that closeness again. At the same time, it felt so immensely wrong to want him like this. It felt cruel to both of them to have this moment, and leave Dean with the memory, and Castiel still oblivious. It felt like he was wishing too much that any of this could last, that any of it had meant more than one too many Jell-O shots, “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Cas,” he finally said, quietly.  _ Ask me tomorrow. Ask me when you’re sober. Tell me that you want me again, and I’ll give you anything you want.  _

“Okay,” Castiel said, his heart crushed inside of his chest, “You’re probably right.” 

He was quiet for a long time, so much so that he wasn’t even sure if Dean was still awake. 

“Dean? Are you still awake?” 

“Yeah, Cas.” Dean whispered, lost in thought still. Occasionally, a tear would slide down one of his cheeks, but he would never in a million years admit to that.

“Are the stars supposed to be spinning?” 

Dean had been afraid of this. He launched up, grabbing Castiel, gently, “Let’s get you to the bathroom.”

It was too late. Castiel leaned over the side of his bed as all the Jell-O he’d consumed earlier came splashing out onto the floor. In the light of the moon, Castiel could see that the reds, blues and greens had combined in his stomach to make a disgusting black color. Seeing this sent the rest of the Jell-O up with it. 

Dean held Castiel steady so he didn’t fall off the bed, rubbing his back. He had a stomach of steel. He’d been through this with Sam, and with dad, “Let it out, it’s gonna be okay,” he soothed.

Castiel was so embarrassed for what seemed like the hundredth time tonight. He got up out of bed and stumbled into the joint bathroom, closing the door behind him. He cleaned the vomit off of his face and started brushing his teeth. 

Dean went downstairs to the main bathroom, grabbing a towel, and some of the cleaner from under the kitchen sink, and cleaned up what was on Castiel’s floor, scrubbing until the Jell-O was as distant of a memory as he hoped to make the rest of tonight.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time Castiel finally fell asleep, Dean was beyond the point of sleep being a possibility...so he climbed out of bed, and did the remainder of the Thanksgiving dishes, picked up any excess trash, disposed of the rest of the Jell-O shots down the drain with a ‘good riddance’.

It was almost nine in the morning by the time Dean returned, leaving a bottle of Tylenol and a cup of orange juice by the side of the bed, with notes that said “Eat” and “Drink”. He curled up beside Castiel, relieved to see that, as usual, he’d left a small puddle of drool on the pillow.  _ Some things never change. _

He brushed the strands of hair away from Castiel’s eyes, before kissing his forehead. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but welcomed it anyway.

Castiel woke up, and as usual, he’d gravitated to Dean’s warmth in the middle of the night. His head was on Dean’s chest, a small spot of drool on his shirt, their legs entwined. His head was reaming. He rolled over and followed Dr. Dean’s instructions, downing the pills with lukewarm orange juice. He rolled back over, clutching onto Dean again and instantly fell back asleep. 

Castiel felt better the next time he woke up. His head wasn’t hurting anymore, but the pain he felt in his heart was far worse. The events of last night kept replaying themselves over and over in his head while he waited for Dean to wake up.  _ He really doesn’t like me. I mean he was kissing me back, but when I asked to kiss him again he didn’t want to. Maybe he feels bad for whoever his real crush is.  _

As Castiel laid there replaying the events, he realized with horror that he’d left a very sizable hickey on the side of Dean’s neck.  _ Fuck. Oh my God. How am I going to explain that? _

Dean didn’t wake up until nearly one in the afternoon, after a good four hours of sleep, “Hey,” he blinked, pulling Castiel closer, the events of the night before filing back into his brain.

“Hey,” Castiel yawned, pretending like he hadn’t been lying awake plagued by his own thoughts for the last hour or so, “Morning, Dean.” 

“How are you feeling?” He asked, running his fingers through Castiel’s hair a bit, while he still could, afraid of the answer either way:  _ I don’t remember what happened _ or  _ How could you let me do that _ …

“Better now,” he said, softly. 

“Good. Morning after usually isn’t fun. Guess I should’ve warned you. What’s the damage?” He took a deep breath, holding it in.

“Well, my head was hurting but I took the pills and went back to sleep. I feel a lot better now. I guess I slept it off,” he said with a shrug. 

_ Not what I meant,  _ Dean thought, heart pounding. “What…” he forced the rest out, “What do you remember?”

“I was dancing and then I called Balthazar. I think he was mad, maybe because I was calling him Balthy. Then I remember the room spinning and lots and lots of Jell-O. Oh shit,” he leaned over the side of the bed, surprised to see no mess. 

“Yeah, he was pretty upset. Mostly at me, though. Is that all?” He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, or even what he was hoping for.

“Yeah,” he lied, “I don’t even remember coming to bed.”  _ I remember, Dean, but I don’t want things to be weird between us anymore. It’s just easier to forget. Act like it never happened.  _

“Yeah, you...um...you drank a lot.” Dean’s heart was breaking in his chest. There hadn’t been an expectation, so why did this hurt so badly? “I’m sorry that I wasn’t as responsible as I should have been. I was putting in the CD, and when I turned around, you’d gulped down about half of what I had. Anyway…”

“No, it’s my fault, Dean,” Castiel said quickly, “I should have been more careful.” 

“You didn’t know,” Dean smiled, even though his heart was still crumbling. He couldn’t even meet Castiel’s eyes. He was so disappointed in himself, “Since you’re alive, I should probably head back home for awhile, check on Sammy, make sure he’s not getting into any trouble.”

“Oh,” Castiel said, softly, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” 

He couldn’t meet Dean’s eyes either. 

Dean finally looked at Castiel, mustering all of the courage he could find, heart racing, “Cas...was there something you wanted to tell me?”

“No,” Castiel replied, not looking up, “Just that I’m sorry...about last night.”

So this was it. The end of hope...the end of what they could have been. It was just a mistake, surely. _ If Cas remembers, he must want to forget about it. Where do we go from here...I don’t know how to do anything but love him… _

“Don’t be…” Dean said, getting out of bed. For once, he didn’t have to change. He was still fully dressed from the night before. He slipped on his socks and shoes, “I guess I’ll see you later, then.”

“Alright, see you later Dean,” Castiel replied, still avoiding eye contact, “You could bring Sam with you later. If you guys want to hang out and play some Nintendo. My mom left me money for pizza.” 

“Yeah...that...sounds good.”

“I’ll just...wait here then…”Castiel said quietly, as he heard the downstairs door close.

Dean’s feet felt like lead as he walked down the stairs. It felt like something was dying inside of him as he walked out the door, almost like a goddamned funeral march back to the Impala, turning the key in the ignition, radio, as usual, blaring. The song was enough to finally make him snap, right there in the Novak’s driveway.

He slammed his fists onto the steering wheel as tears began streaming down his face. The cursing was drowned out by the blaring speaker, which was all well and good, because honestly, the lyrics to the song were more accurate than anything that he could coherently muster at that point. So, he let himself break, because he knew Castiel, and knew he was laying in bed still, and because Sammy couldn’t see him like this...not this weak, not ever. 

Rain began to fall again, this time in soft sheets on the windshield; but it was so cold that Dean realized it would soon turn to snow, and kill everything beautiful that the Fall had brought. He couldn’t think of anything more fitting.

 

_ When I look into your eyes, _

_ I can see a love restrained... _

_ But darlin' when I hold you, _

_ Don't you know I feel the same? _

_ 'Cause nothin' lasts forever, _

_ And we both know hearts can change. _

_ And it's hard to hold a candle, _

_ In the cold November rain... _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songlist for Chapter Four:
> 
> Sex & Candy- Marcy Playground  
> Fantasy- Ludacris  
> November Rain- Guns 'N Roses
> 
> **Note from the Author:
> 
> Aaah don't kill me for this chapter. Good things come to those who wait, I swear!! *Hides in a corner*  
> Until next time.


	5. Ever After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean makes a decision that changes everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: Though the chapter title is 'Ever After', it isn't the end--- there is A LOT to follow for Dean and for Castiel. 
> 
> Warnings for this Chapter: (A lot of) Sexual Content/Mature Themes
> 
> **Notes from the Author**  
> Finished Chapter Five with 8 days to spare before the end of the month. This one was really important, so I was worried it might take a little longer, I'll let you all read and figure out why ;).  
> I really appreciate all the feedback and comments we're getting from you guys- you're wonderful and I'm truly happy you're enjoying the story so far.  
> I always welcome any thoughts, any squee-able moments you had, feedback, what you enjoyed, etc. I love seeing what you all think. <3
> 
>  
> 
> Until Chapter Six, with love.

* * *

* * *

 

_**November, 1998- The Same Day** _

 

Dean drove completely around town two, maybe three times. He lost count, blaring his music, hands still shaking on the steering wheel. He didn’t want to go home because the entire concept of the word itself had changed. Home hadn’t become the little trailer he and Sam and on the rare occasion, dad shared. Home was the smell of shampoo, the sound of choked laughter, the way Cas always said ‘Dean’. Cas was home, and Dean felt like, for the millionth time, he’d just been pushed away from ‘home’ entirely.

He drove until the Impala was sputtering on empty before he filled her up with gas at the little shop next to the diner where he and Castiel had their first ‘date’, and figured ‘what the hell’. 

He stopped in the diner, ordered nothing but a milkshake, and sat, brooding in the corner, combining the strawberry and chocolate with a straw until it made an ugly brown color. 

He didn’t eat a burger, even though Connie offered, and was in no mood to talk. He was more annoyed that there was a new girl working at the diner, who kept coming over and flirting with him. He didn’t want to have to pretend anymore. He didn’t want the forced smiles or the sugar-coated lies of flirting back. He wanted Cas. 

He ended up tossing down a few crumpled up dollar bills on the table and leaving without a word. He drove the speed limit the entire way back to the trailer, just to avoid the inevitable return. 

When he pulled up in the gravel, his heart sank. Everything had changed overnight in his heart and in his mind, but this was still the same. He knew when he walked in, he’d find dishes starting to pile by the sink because Sammy never did them. The trash would be full, there’d probably be pizza boxes, coke cans, and maybe a couple beer cans.  It was cramped, messy, and chaotic- it was his life. The trailer would smell like sweat, and old food, like it always did...and his room would bring him no comfort other than the sleep he needed.

He shut the door to the Impala, walking up the gravel, then up the steps, greeted with the familiarity he already expected. 

The trailer was quiet, save for the sound of the Sega in Sam’s room softly running, like usual. Dean brushed past it, going straight to his room, wanting to crawl into bed and sleep off some of the awful feelings that were making him bitter, and resentful. 

What he found was Amber, asleep on his bed, her feet on one side, and her head on the opposite, taking up all the space. She must have stayed over and kept Sam company last night. Of course, she’d pass out, and Sam would still be up, playing video games. The kid never slept.

Dean quietly sat his bag down in his room, not bothering to wake Amber up to move her, or talk to her, or even hold her while he felt like he was falling apart. He pulled the covers up on her, before turning and slumping in the hall.

_ He remembers. He has to. Otherwise, what would he apologize for? I guess he was probably embarrassed about everything- but I kissed him- even if I didn’t want it to be like that- I was kissing him back. He wanted to kiss me...so why would he push away from me? Maybe I’ve been reading everything wrong. Maybe he’s not….like me….maybe his crush isn’t me, despite what he says, maybe it’s really a girl and I was just the only person there, and now he hates me. _

_ God. That’s stupid to think, Dean. He wouldn’t have invited you over if he hates you...and you know better than anyone that alcohol usually makes you say what was on your mind anyway. Maybe it’s because he didn’t want it to be like that either, and it was his first fucking time and he’s shy- ok? Maybe you shouldn’t have run out like a coward… _

Dean found himself torn between possibilities, and lacking the resolve to find out which possibility was the truth. Instead, he pulled himself up, about to walk to the bathroom and take a shower, when Sam peeked out from his room, “Hey, you’re back early.”

“Yep,” Dean muttered, still set on moping. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be at Cas’?” He snickered, “Having sex?”

Sammy looked like he’d been up all night, and Dean couldn’t be too angry with his little brother who had his long hair pulled back in a tiny little ponytail, probably for gaming purposes, and still had pizza sauce on the corner of his lip from the night before.

“We weren’t having sex,” Dean protested, upset at the accusation after the prior night’s events, “And I take it neither were you, judging by the pizza sauce.” He licked his thumb, wiping the sauce off of Sam’s face and smirking.

“Eww, Dean, that’s fucking gross.”

Dean laughed. He loved riling Sammy up, which was the entire reason for his actions, “Yeah, well, so is last night’s pizza.” 

He brushed past Sam, invading his little brother’s room, which was trashed, per usual.

“Hey!”

“Hey, nothing, Amber’s asleep in mine and I’m tired.” Dean pulled his shirt off, tossing it somewhere amidst the entire carpeting of clothes that made up Sam’s floor. 

“From having sex with Cas,” Sam said confidently, as Dean laid down on the bed.

“No. Not from having sex with Cas. We didn’t, Sam, it wasn’t like that.”

“Oh? Then, what’s this?” Sam said, hopping onto the bed and pressing hard into the dark hickey on Dean’s neck.

“Fucking ow!” Dean protested, hand flying up to his neck.

“Might want to see that,” Sam quipped.

Dean groaned, getting out of bed once more, and walking the short distance across the hall to the one bathroom in the trailer. He twisted his head so he could get a better look. He couldn’t miss it...the mark was a very visible purple, black, red and blue. His eyes widened, and he ran his fingers over it in appreciation, “Well, damn.”

Sam stood in the doorway, “So, you weren’t having sex? Is Cas just a slutty drunk or something?” he snickered.

“Yeah,” Dean snapped, “Something like that.”

“Shit,” Sam hushed, “What happened?” 

“I fucked up pretty bad. Got him drunk…” Dean began.

“I know you got him drunk, I was there when you were making the shots, remember?”

“I just wanted him to try something he wanted to try. Figured it was safe, he was with me. Thought it might be good for him to let loose a little...and maybe I guess I thought I wanted to be the one to be there for it…”

“Oh, I bet you enjoyed being there for it, by the looks of it.”

Dean’s face heated up and he felt his eyes stinging a little. Sam was being so insensitive, but he couldn’t understand. “I didn’t think it would be like that. I didn’t want it to be like that. It just happened. He just, started telling me I was his crush, and he kissed me, and then he was on top of me...and part of me was fine with that, but it wasn’t him...and now he says he doesn’t remember. He does, though, Sam, I fucked it up...I fucked everything up.”

“I dunno, Dean...if he didn’t really like you, I don’t think he’d have done all of those things, slutty drunk or not.”

“Don’t say that about him,” Dean said, defensively.

Sam rolled his eyes, ignoring his brother, “You shouldn’t be here, you should be there, with Cas. Did he tell you to leave?”

“No...I just…”

“Ran? Dean...I know shit has sucked...a lot. But you can’t just expect shit to suck all the time. If you’re the one running, expecting bad things to happen, you’re kinda setting yourself up for that, don’t ya think?”

Dean paused a moment, letting Sammy’s words sink in. He wasn’t sure when his brother had become this smart regarding life, but every word was right. Dean was so used to being hauled around and moved by dad, or hunting, or being told he was worthless, that he’d started to believe it a long time ago. He pushed everyone and everything away the second it started looking bad, and that was just what he had done to Castiel. Cas didn’t deserve that cowardice.

Dean began rummaging in the pile of clean clothes in the hall, “Y’know, little brother, for someone so smart, you sure can be dumb.”

“What did I do?” Sam said, turning defensive and raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing, and that’s the problem.”

“You’re not making sense, Dean.”

“Amber.”

Sam’s eyes widened before he looked away, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, yes you do,” Dean said, pulling a white V-Neck out of the pile, “And you don’t even have anything to be scared of. She comes with us everywhere, we’ve been together since you were barely even a kid.”

“Exactly,” Sam murmured, “And what do you know about anything, Dean?”

“That you should tell her. You should really tell her.” He owed Sammy, owed his little brother for his perspective, for his insight on how closed-off he’d really become.

It still didn’t sit well for Dean that after everything, Amber and Sam were crushing on each other...it was kind of weird, especially after all that they’d been through. However, Dean had seen enough to know that whatever weird shit was between his brother and his best friend was real. He’d watched them flirt badly with each other for months, heard Amber talk about him, and saw Sam try to avoid gushing about her. He guessed in a sense, it was actually kind of cute, but still fucked up.

“Tell her what?”

Dean smiled, ruffling his brother’s hair out of his ponytail.

“Hey!” Sam growled, grabbing the worn-out hair-tie.

“That you want to kiss her.”

“Shut up, Dean…” Sam turned red.

“She wants to kiss you too, you know,” Dean teased, pulling the shirt over his head and continuing to rummage in the pile.

“You’re lying,” Sam said, turning a darker shade of red.

“Am not. She feels the same way about you, baby brother. She told me.”

“Why would she tell you that?”

“Because we’re best friends, brat. She tells me everything. Even the weird stuff.”

“Then why hasn’t she told me?”

“Cause girls don’t operate that way. C’mon Sammy, I don’t even like girls and I know more about them than you. She’s been waiting for you to figure it out, which obviously isn’t happening.” He grabbed a black overshirt, tugging it on over the undershirt.

“Shut up, Dean,” Sam repeated, sulking and still very red. “You don’t get it. Yeah, we could move, and you might lose Cas...I mean, we might. Probably not cause of everything dad’s done here, but, that’s what you’re afraid of. With Amber, even if we move, she’s moving with us. If I fuck something up, then I have to live with it.”

“Then, don’t fuck it up.”

“Shit,” Sam said, “How would I even tell her? Do I just...kiss her? Like in the chick flicks?”

“I think you can figure it out,” Dean said, standing up and opening the coat closet, pulling out one of Dad’s leather jackets, since his own was currently in use, and it was fucking cold outside.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“Cas’. I’m gonna go fix this. And Sammy?”

“Yeah?” Sam asked, confused. 

“Tell her. But, Sam, I swear to god if anything happens in my room, you better change the sheets. Order a pizza or something.” With any luck, he wouldn’t be back tonight. “Gonna  _ Ever After _ this shit.”

Dean couldn’t even be ashamed that after the first time he and Cas had really talked, that he’d gone out and rented Castiel’s favorite movie, sitting through it, watching it intently, and even enjoying it, even if he’d never admit that.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Sam asked.

Dean smiled, “Means I’m gonna kiss him. Like in the chick flicks.”

 

* * *

 

Castiel laid in bed, tears still streaming down his face as he replayed the events from last night and this morning again and again in his head.  _ He kissed me back. Surely that means he wanted me too, right? Maybe it was just instinct that he started kissing me back. Maybe I’m just bad at it and that’s why he stopped me. Maybe he didn’t really want to. Maybe he doesn’t even like boys. Maybe he feels guilty about his crush. I can’t believe that I left a hickey on him. And it was huge. He’s probably going to hate me as soon as he sees it. Maybe that’s why he left. I can’t believe I fucking came on him.  _

It took awhile before Castiel was able to dry his eyes. In the end, he decided that whatever was going to happen was going to happen. There was no taking last night back, and a part of him didn’t want to. A part of him wanted to hold onto the way Dean’s lips felt against his, to cherish that feeling forever. 

He was tired of being sad and tired of trying to figure out where he fucked up and how he could fix it. He just wanted to focus on the good. The way Dean felt against him, the smell of his skin, the taste of those lips. He climbed out of bed and pulled on Dean’s leather jacket. It was faint, but it still smelled like him. In a way, even the smell of the leather itself reminded Castiel of Dean, of classic rock and the backseat of the Impala. 

Castiel flipped through his CDs and decided on Britney, one of his guilty pleasures. His parents weren’t home, so he turned it up a bit.  _ Fuck it all. _  He grabbed his hair brush out of the bathroom and hopped up on top of his bed, singing and dancing his heart out to  _ Oops... I Did it Again _ .

 

_ I think I did it again, _

_ I made you believe we're more than just friends... _

_ Oh baby, _

_ It might seem like a crush, _

_ But it doesn't mean that I'm serious. _

_ 'Cause to lose all my senses, _

_ That is just so typically me... _

_ Oh baby, baby… _

 

_ Dean did it again. Played with my heart. Bastard. How could he just act like nothing happened? How could he just act like he loves me one day and then push me away from him the next?  _

Castiel swayed his hips, popping the collar on the leather jacket. He wondered what it would feel like to dance with Dean. To feel his hips grind against his. He gripped the hairbrush tighter as he sang. 

 

_ You see my problem is this, _

_ I'm dreaming away... _

_ Wishing that heroes, they truly exist. _

_ I cry, watching the days, _

_ Can't you see I'm a fool in so many ways... _

_ But to lose all my senses... _

_ That is just so typically me, _

_ Baby, oh. _

 

Dean had let himself into the Novak house after speeding the entire way there. It wasn’t like he was a creep or anything. The door was still unlocked, and he’d knocked. The problem was, that, much like Dean on his bad days, Castiel’s music was serving its purpose of shutting the world in its entirety out. The music had silenced the sound of the door.

He noticed Mrs. Novak’s car still wasn’t in the drive, and could safely presume that Castiel was still home alone. He’d justified letting himself in with all these facts, in the end, remembering that Castiel had, in fact, invited both he and Sam over later.

The music was even louder when Dean opened the door, surprisingly so for someone usually ‘by the book’. He couldn’t blame Castiel though, for wanting to just let it all out...too much had happened, for them both.

He could, however, enjoy the show that Castiel was putting on.  He had been about to knock on Castiel’s wall when he caught a glimpse of what was going on. He leaned back against the doorframe, looking entirely too amused as he watched Castiel Novak  _ actually _ let loose, no alcohol needed. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched Castiel dancing on the bed, singing into...a hairbrush?

He knew this song. It was one of the ones that Cas listened to through his headphones when he was studying in the library, thinking no one could hear. As he watched the scene unfold, Castiel in his leather jacket, dancing around, Dean licked his lips, stifling a laugh.  _ Is he...mocking me? _

Castiel was nearly to the end of the song when he turned around and discovered his audience. He jumped down off the bed and tossed the hairbrush on the floor. He shut the CD off quickly but it was too late. The damage was already done. Castiel felt his face heat up with embarrassment again. 

“That’s Anna’s,” he said, almost defensively, shrugging. 

Dean didn’t say anything as he began taking steps towards Castiel. “No, it’s definitely yours,” he said with a smirk, closing the distance between them, brushing his hand against the leather jacket Castiel was wearing, quirking an eyebrow in amusement, “Go on, Cas, tell me what you really think,” he teased.

Castiel was flustered and he wasn’t sure what to say to that.  _ What I really think is...god...why won’t you kiss me again?  _ He looked down at the leather jacket, his humiliation growing.  “I was just about to check the mail...and it’s cold outside….”

“Ah, I see. And,” Dean smiled, suddenly feeling calm. His arms laced around Castiel, under the jacket, and over his shirt, “You needed to stay warm…” he nodded, pretending to go along with it.

“Yeah…” Castiel said breathlessly,  _ Oh God...he’s touching me. Wait why is he…? What the hell is he…?  _ “Dean, what are you…?” 

Dean pulled Castiel tight to him until their bodies were touching, “You’re wearing it because you want to,” he said, tracing up and down Castiel’s side, with his fingers, “You kept it all this time, because you wanted to.”

“Dean…I...” 

_ Fuck,  _ Castiel’s mind raced,  _ Fuck. He knows. What do I say? Why is he so close to me? Is he going to kiss me? Please, Dean. No….don’t get your hopes up. He’s just….fuck...what the hell is he doing?  _

“You remember last night.”

_ Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. He really knows. _ Castiel’s heart pounded in his chest as he quickly contemplated his options.  _ Lie. Lie to him. What’s the use? He already knows the truth. Maybe he...maybe he wants you to remember. He’s so close. Say something. Before he leaves again. Say anything.  _

“Yes,” he said, voice shaking before he swallowed hard, “I...I remember everything, Dean.” 

“I thought so.”

No one ever said that when you kiss the one you love for the first time, it’s exactly like a chick flick. In a matter of milliseconds, Dean’s world froze, and there was Cas...there, frozen in time, blue eyes wide even though he hadn’t quite processed what was going on. Then, Dean saw his own hands reaching out, fingers sliding into the denim of Castiel’s belt loops, dragging him to him by the hips, even as his own body pushed back, pinning Castiel’s back against his bedroom wall.

One hand went up under his chin, and their eyes met. Colors exploded inside Dean like fucking fireworks- his heart pounding, stomach churning. His tongue wet his lips as they closed the already small gap between him and Castiel, pressing his mouth against his best friend’s fiercely- making sure to paint a picture for him without using words-  _ I am in love with you. This is what I want. I want you, pressing against me, holding me, I want you to love me.  _

_ Is this real? _ Castiel begged inside of himself,  _ Is this really happening? Is he...kissing me? Finally?  _ It felt like he’d been waiting for this moment for years. The hours it had been since he last kissed Dean had felt unbearable. Now, here he came, like an angel of mercy to put him out of that misery and plunge him into a world of bliss. 

Castiel’s arms flew up around Dean’s neck and he emitted a soft moan as he pressed back against Dean, meeting their kiss eagerly. 

That one fucking sound set Dean off, and he was on fire, burning, and for all he cared- he could go to fucking hell because this was worth it.

He ran his tongue over Castiel’s full lips, begging him as he clung to him, both shaking in each other’s arms. As Castiel yielded and their tongues met, Dean felt his knees go weak and he almost lost his balance, fingers running up into Castiel’s hair to hold onto fucking something, which elicited another sound from Cas, and Dean had to move them before he lost his ability to stand completely.

He’d told Castiel before that he liked to tease, he liked to drag it out until the very last second, until his partner was about to explode...but, they were already shaking in each other’s arms after just one kiss, and he wasn’t sure how long he could hold off with Castiel being so beautiful, kissing him like he was his entire fucking world.

He pulled away, gasping for air, as he turned Castiel back towards the bed, walking backward, catching onto Cas’ hips as he tripped. “I love you…” he panted, eyes blown wide, staring breathlessly at Castiel, and his kiss-swollen lips.

The lust in Cas’ eyes softened and became something more. He reached out and touched Dean’s cheek as they collapsed onto Castiel’s bed. “You…?”

“I’m in love with you.”

Castiel placed another gentle kiss on Dean’s lips, which were swelling and sensitive at this point. Dean shuddered, holding Castiel to him, even as he lay beneath him, expectantly waiting for answers that even kisses like this couldn’t give him.

“I love you, too, Dean,” Castiel broke away to say, smiling between kisses. He’d never felt this happy in his life. He’d waited so long for this moment and now that it was here he didn’t know what to say.  _ Why? Why would he love me? He can have anyone he wanted. I’m nothing special.  _

Dean didn’t taste like alcohol now, and Castiel preferred this taste. It was Dean. It was safety, protection, it was love and strength, and Castiel was addicted.

Castiel gasped when he felt friction against his cock, which had grown hard. As their tongues danced, and they explored each other, desperate to know every crevice, every taste, and never let go, Dean had started gently rocking against him, just enough to get this exhilarating friction between them, causing Cas to pant and gasp against Dean’s mouth, which only made him keep going.

Dean broke the kiss as soon as he was satisfied with the glorious sounds coming from his loved one’s lips. Cas was shaking beneath him now and whimpered when the warmth of Dean’s mouth left his. Dean’s strong arms embraced Castiel, pulling him up and quickly shoving his own leather jacket off of Cas.

Dean nimbly laced his fingers beneath the hem of Castiel’s shirt, dragging it slowly up. He shivered as Castiel’s soft skin was exposed to him, unscarred, smooth and beautiful. He lifted it over his head, tossing it gently to the floor, appreciating the mess that the effort had left Cas’ hair in. 

“D-dean…” Castiel protested, his arms flying up to cover himself as he turned a brilliant shade of red. It made Dean smile.  _ This _ was what their first kiss was supposed to be- sexy, and passionate, and a little awkward, and embarrassing. It was everything he’d wanted.

He pulled Castiel’s arms gently away, looking him in the eyes instead of at his half-naked body, caressing his cheek softly, which Cas nuzzled into, still shy and embarrassed.

“Cas, look at me.”

Cas’ blue eyes opened, staring up at Dean, nervous, and excited at the same time.

“Don’t hide from me,” Dean smiled, “You don’t ever have to hide from me. You’re beautiful. You know that, right? You’re goddamn beautiful.”

Castiel’s heart thudded in his chest.  _ He thinks I’m beautiful. He loves me, and he thinks I’m beautiful. I’m in love with you, too, Dean. God...you’re so sexy. _

Castiel nodded, his hands shaking as he pushed Dean’s leather jacket down over his shoulders, letting it slip off the bed and onto the floor. The black overshirt fell with the jacket, and Castiel tugged the v-neck off as well, tossing it aside in the same pile as his shirt until Dean was in the same gorgeous state of undress as he was.

Dean was so strong, and so beautiful, despite the heavy scarring on his arms and chest, on his stomach. It pained Castiel to wonder again what had caused it but decided to dwell instead on what was in front of him, which was Dean Winchester, looking at him like he loved him. “You’re beautiful too, Dean.”

Dean blushed. Castiel wasn’t certain he’d ever really seen such a shade of red on Dean but found it perfect, and adorable. He shakily laid back on the bed, letting Dean follow him down.

Dean’s hands traced up Castiel’s stomach, causing him to shudder, and up his chest, caressed his cheek before petting his hair, “You can tell me to stop whenever you want. I want you to be comfortable.”

Castiel had always pictured Dean Winchester, fucking him to Zeppelin in the backseat of the Impala...just taking him, making him his...but this, this was nice too, and not entirely unexpected. “Dean…” Castiel said shakily, moaning again as Dean’s hot lips pressed against his neck, and he couldn’t help a soft “-ah!”

“Yeah, Cas?” Dean breathed against his ear, licking along his neck, nipping gently, kissing there too.

“I…” he breathed, trying to focus on a train of thought, “I think I want a crash course.”

Then, Dean was sucking his neck, making Castiel’s skin feel like it was on fire, his cock straining hard against his pants, which he was sure Dean could feel by now.

Dean chuckled against Castiel’s neck, breath hot and moist against what Castiel was pretty certain was a payback hickey that he hoped he wouldn’t have to explain to his mom, “Then, you were asking the wrong questions,” he murmured contentedly in Castiel’s ear, skimming his fingers alongside his ribs until they reached the hem of his pants, tracing underneath ever so slightly until they found the button, undoing both it and the zipper with expertise skill.

_ Oh god. Is he….are we… _ Castiel’s heart pounded harder. 

“Questions?” Castiel managed, his blood rushing so quickly to his face he could hear it in his ears.

“Mhm,” Dean teased, his teeth grazing over Castiel’s ear, “Like, have I done this before?”

H _ as he? Has he done this with another guy? I mean, I know he’s had sex. He  _ is _ sex… _

Castiel had begun to wiggle out of his pants as Dean had started to pull them down, almost on autopilot, full of nerves and excitement.

“The answer is yes,” Dean responded to the silence, “I’ve done this before.” Even as Dean said the words, he felt guilt strike him almost like lightening, an uncomfortable prickle and static beneath his skin as he realized just how badly he wished that Castiel could have been his first, “But I’ve never felt like this about someone,” he said, coming up to meet Castiel’s eyes, showing him the sincerity of his words as he kissed him again, pulling back only briefly to say, “You can touch me, Cas.”

Castiel’s insides melted. He felt so naked next to Dean when his bare legs rubbed against Dean’s jeans. He shivered, his quivering hands moving up and wrapping around Dean’s neck again, before tracing his fingers over Dean’s shoulders, feeling the hardened muscles of his biceps on his arm, before tracing down his ribs, which caused Dean to jerk a little.  _ I’d almost forgotten he was ticklish. _ Castiel couldn’t help but smile at such a simple vulnerability. His fingers traced over his stomach and up his chest, “Don’t stop kissing me, Dean.” He leaned up, pressing his lips against Dean’s again.

Dean collapsed, the heat of his chest melding with Castiel’s body heat. Dean wrapped an arm around him, pulling him tighter. He kissed Castiel’s lips until they were raw, he kissed his neck until there was more than one purple bruise beginning to form. Dean kissed Castiel’s stomach, and shoulders, and chest until Cas was shaking so badly in his arms Dean had to ask if he was alright. He traced his fingers over every bit of uncovered skin until he skimmed his fingers over the very top of Castiel’s boxer-briefs. 

Dean was still panting from kisses, and caresses when he asked, voice shaking, “Can I?”

_ Can he what? Undress me? Touch me? Suck me? All of the above….please?  _ Castiel wondered, even as he nodded.

Dean smiled, noticing Castiel wearing that worried expression, his teeth biting the skin of  his bottom lip.

“Don’t worry, Cas, I’ve got you,” Dean assured soothingly. “Here.”

He stood up before Castiel, placing his own hands on his belt buckle, and undoing it. Castiel sat up, eager to see as he realized what Dean was doing.

It was almost agony for Castiel how slowly Dean was going...it seemed like hours before the belt hit the floor before the denim was around Dean’s ankles before Dean began to slide down his boxer-briefs, letting the fabric go over his hips, before bouncing over his cock.

Castiel had seen it beneath the clothing more than once, he’d known that Dean was big. Now that he could see everything, he realized that Dean was bigger than he was by a good bit...wondered if maybe he was just ill-equipped, or if Dean was just...Dean...more than perfect in every way. He couldn’t look for a moment, averting his gaze shyly before allowing himself to take in all of Dean Winchester, naked and perfect before him, cock stiff and standing up, needing Castiel just as much as he needed him. There were small droplets of clear precome slipping down Dean’s cock, that made Castiel want to reach out, touch him, try to do things he’d never done before.

“You’re shaking,” Dean noted, coming back to bed, pulling Cas down and pulling the comforter over them both. Castiel could feel Dean graze his leg, just a little, and it made him shiver more.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be.”

“We don’t have to…”

“Shh…”Castiel said, this time pressing a finger to Dean’s lips, “I want to.” He swallowed hard, reaching out, taking Dean’s cock into his hand, stroking gently, nerves exploding, feeling a sharp pain in his own groin when Dean let out a surprised gasp that immediately turned into a low moan.  _ He feels so good. So amazing. He’s so big. How is he...how’s he going to fit? _

_ Oh god,  _ Dean thought,  _ Castiel Novak is touching me. _

Dean’s head hit the backboard of the bed with an audible thud, which caused them both to laugh for a brief moment before all that remained for Dean was the pleasure, the very real feeling of Castiel’s fingers wrapped around him, curiously searching for all the sensitive spots that would drive Dean crazy.

The crescendo was building within Dean, his legs unable to stop shaking, his body firm, until he had no choice but to push Castiel off of him, causing him to flop to the other side of the bed. “Dean-!” he protested, “I wanted you to…”  _ Am I bad at it? Is that why he’s stopping me? _

“I know,” Dean soothed, “I know. But I want to, too. I want to be all of your firsts, Cas. Please. Let me.” His fingers were already tugging at Castiel’s underwear, pulling them off, leaving them at the end of the bed as Castiel bit his lip again.

Dean had shoved the comforter just off to the side when he’d pushed Cas off, so he got a full view. Castiel’s hand twitched as though he would try to cover himself again, “You’re beautiful,” Dean repeated, watching Castiel’s cheeks flush once more.

It wasn’t, and would never be a lie. Castiel Novak was easily the most beautiful thing- living or nonliving- that Dean had ever seen. He was more beautiful than the sunsets in the desert, or the thousands of stars above at night. He was more beautiful than Dean’s favorite lyrics, or a breathtaking guitar solo. He was Castiel, and he was the one Dean was meant to love. 

Dean had to suck in a breath, plagued by nerves he’d never known before. With prior partners, getting undressed and getting, for lack of better terms, to  _ business _ \- had been easy. This had been sensual, and nerve-wracking, although Dean was certain if Castiel felt remotely the same about him, that nothing in the entire world could ruin this moment.

“I want to touch you,” Dean explained, eyes locked onto Castiel’s. Castiel nodded quickly before nerves could overtake him, and Dean planted a kiss on his lips again.

Castiel had expected a quick peck, but Dean had moved again, his whole body kind of just dangling over Castiel, not putting any weight on him, and leaving space between. His tongue slipped into Castiel’s mouth again, caressing it with his. He tasted so sweet, a faint hint of mint on his breath.  _ You’re the closest thing there will ever be to perfect, Castiel Novak. _

As Castiel’s body began to relax again, finding relief in Dean’s tongue and lips, Dean reached his hand between them, beginning to stroke Castiel gently, shuddering, and becoming aware of his own erection against Cas’ leg.

Castiel sighed against Dean’s lips, wrapping his arms tight around his neck, pulling away just a little, “God, Dean.”

“Move your hips a little,” Dean whispered, kissing Castiel again, biting gently down on his bottom lip, “There, just like that.” 

The motion allowed Castiel to slide more easily into Dean’s hand, which tightened, slick from Cas’ precome. He wiggled his own hips a little, deepening their kiss as he took them both into his large hand, stroking them in rhythm. He’d never done this, always wanted to. Castiel felt amazing against him, the friction of their skin, the sticky-sweet smell of precome.

“D-Dean…” Castiel cried out, jerking against the bed “Oh god, wh-what are you?” Another moan ripped through him.

Dean was shaking by this point, ashamed to admit he was barely holding himself up from collapsing on Castiel. Small droplets of sweat were beading down his forehead, as he tried to focus on movement. It felt too good.

“You’re so big,” Castiel moaned, blushing harder when he realized what he’d just said. _ Is it normal to just say things like that? _ Castiel wondered. He didn’t mind as he was met with an approving groan from Dean.

It wasn’t much longer before words were lost altogether, and both of them were thrusting into Dean’s hand, panting, barely able to breathe, the air hot and sticky, the need overwhelming. Castiel was squirming a little, legs shaking. Dean knew it wouldn’t be much longer, “It’s okay, baby, I want you to make a mess out of me. I’m yours.”

_ I’m yours _ was all it took for Castiel, who’d been desperately holding on, gripping the edge of the bed, to Dean, onto whatever he could possibly find that would stop him from being so drunk on pleasure, drunk on Dean. “I’m-I’m-” 

Castiel didn’t get time to warn Dean before he was spilling, hot and sticky between both of them, soaking Dean’s hand, and his own stomach. It kept going. He felt like he would never come down. He arched on the bed, clawing desperately to Dean, clinging onto him as his body convulsed again and again, “Dean, oh god, Dean.”

Dean’s body caught up to Cas’ only seconds later, before Castiel had reached the end of his climax, his entire body lurched, and he found himself barely able to move. With Castiel’s come warm on his hand, and on his cock, he came harder than he could ever remember coming in his entire life- to fantasies, or to a person. “Fuck!” He couldn’t help the obscenities. The feelings were too strong, too powerful, “C-Cas...Castiel!”

_ My name. Dean just said my name while he was coming. He...he never says my name. Fuck. I just felt Dean come. Right now. All over me.  _

Dean held Castiel through their after-waves, rocking with him, still too sensitive, but not wanting to stop, “I love you, Cas. Love you so much,” Dean said, cradling Cas’ head, running his fingers through his hair, “It was you, too. Always you.”

 

* * *

 

 

When the Novaks finally returned home, Castiel and Dean were tangled in bed, legs wrapped around each other, Castiel folded perfectly into Dean’s embrace. Persian had jumped up on the bed and fallen asleep with them, curled up in a white fluffy ball. They’d talked a little, warm and in love, before they’d begun kissing until they were exhausted from the effort and had fallen asleep. 

Mr. Novak and Mrs. Novak bore the brunt of the mass amounts of shopping, which was barely a dent into the boxes and bags loading up the trunk of Mrs. Novak’s van.  It had been a good year for Christmas, even with two extra kids on the shopping list, “Castiel!” Mrs. Novak called, “Come help with Christmas!”

Castiel jerked violently awake at the sound of his mother’s voice, his heart filling with terror as he realized that he and Dean were both still completely naked, and worse, his room smelled like sex. He pushed his glasses up his nose, having fallen asleep with them, thankful they weren’t broken. He never slept naked, which felt strange enough, but it was made more awkward by the fact that his cat had crawled in bed too. He gently nudged her off onto the floor, before he grabbed Dean, shaking him awake, “Dean!” He shook again, “Dean!”

“Mmf?” Dean grumbled, feeling groggy, and satisfied, and warm. His grip tightened around Castiel, snuggling into him.    

“Dean! My Parents are home! We’re naked! And my room...it smells like sex! Dean, what should I do?” Castiel kept trying to shake Dean awake, “Dean! Baby?” 

Dean’s hand fell off of the bed, looking for his pants, even as he leaned up, pressing his lips to Cas’, only mildly aware of the urgency of the situation, and only partly awake. Soon, the pants lost his focus and he was pouring his energy into kissing Castiel.

Castiel moaned softly against his lips before he pulled away. “No, Dean, we need clothes. My mom...she could be up here any minute. Then I might never see you again. Come on. Please?” 

Dean didn’t give up the kisses, insistently pressing his lips to Castiel’s as he resumed fumbling for clothes, grabbing Castiel’s pants and tossing them up on the bed.

“Castiel??” Mrs. Novak called, “Chuck, do you think that he’s already asleep? It’s only 6:30,” Mrs. Novak said worriedly from the bottom of the stairs, loud enough to be heard through the cracked open door.

Castiel pulled his jeans on without even bothering with underwear first, tugging them on before calling downstairs, “Be down in a second, mom.” 

Castiel shut the door quickly before pulling his shirt on. “Dean. My room. It smells like sex. What should I do?” 

“Let’s just...go downstairs…?” Dean asked, still partially asleep, sitting up, and pulling his pants and v-neck back on, shoving the rest of his clothes under the bed with his foot, smiling, his hair messed up from both sleep and sex.

“You’re so sexy,” Castiel said softly, smiling. An idea struck him. “Wait. I know.” 

He went to the bathroom and grabbed his body spray, giving a few sprays throughout the room. He sniffed the air, “Can you still smell the sex?” 

“The sex?” Dean teased, laughing, standing up and smoothing Cas’ hair down, kissing his cheek, “All I can smell is you.” The room was permeated with too much cologne. Castiel still had a lot to learn about being inconspicuous.  “C’mon, let’s go help your mom.”

He opened the door, hair still a little messed up, but it looked good on him. Sleep, sex, it didn’t matter, neither made Dean Winchester any less gorgeous. He looked around to ask how he could help but saw no one in the foyer. They must have gone back out for more. The entire hall was full of double-bags, black bags, and wrapped boxes.

Anna came out of her room, smiling at Dean, before wrapping her arms around him. “Hey, sexy, missed me?” she said, leaning up to kiss him. 

Castiel’s heart shattered in his chest.  _ No. He’s mine. He even said so. Keep your hands off of him, you bitch.  _ But instead of saying any of those things, he walked past them and down the stairs, not really wanting to stick around to see his sister’s tongue shoved down his lover’s throat.

Before Castiel had made it two steps down, he heard Dean mutter, “We need to talk,” as he stepped away from Anna, out of her arms, away from her embrace, pulling his face a safe distance out of her reach.

Castiel continued down the stairs, heart pounding, nervously wondering what Dean was talking about as he went outside to help his parents. 

“What do you mean we need to talk?” Anna asked, confused, but her tone still rather sweet. 

“This isn’t working for me. We’re over,” Dean said, rather bluntly. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told Castiel that he couldn’t stand her. It had driven him mad to watch her demean and belittle the one he really loved, and it was even worse when they were at a game and she’d try to put his hands on her breasts or press hers against the denim of his jeans. This was a long time coming, and honestly, Dean didn’t feel even remotely bad about it.

“What? What do you mean we’re over?” Anna snapped, her voice fluctuating to a higher pitch. 

“Exactly what I said, we’re over. Does it honestly surprise you that much?” Dean said, coldly, “Dante told me you were fucking Aaron weeks ago, and trust me, that’s not the first time that I’ve heard it. I’m sick of being your trophy boyfriend. I’m the laughing stock of the entire school, not that it matters because they’re all a bunch of assholes anyway.”

“Dean, I’m not fucking anyone else. What are you even talking about? Come on, we can fix this,” she wrapped her arms around Dean again. 

“Anyone else?” Dean pulled away, “What kind of delusion are you living in that you think you’re even fucking me? You’re not. We never have. We’re not going to. We’re over. I’m done being your golden ticket to prom queen. That’s all I am, and you can find someone else. We’re done.” Dean shook his head, feeling like a huge weight was being lifted off of him.

“We’re two weeks away from prom!” she spat, as Castiel came back up the stairs carrying an armful of bags, “How can you do this to me, Dean? How am I supposed to find someone in two weeks to take me to prom?! We’ve been talking about this for months! We made reservations!” 

“I guess you should have thought about those things before you were so mean to...well, basically everyone that you weren’t trying to sleep with. I’m done.” Dean turned away to go help Mr. and Mrs. Novak and Castiel with the bags.

Anna grabbed Dean by the shoulder. “Don’t just walk away from me! We’re not done here! We’re not through talking about this! What’s gotten into you?” 

Dean met Cas’ eyes for the briefest of moments before turning back to Anna, “I have nothing else to say to you.”

The small movement didn’t go unnoticed. “Oh my God! This is because of you!” she snapped, turning around to face Castiel before facing Dean again, “So it’s true what they say about you. No wonder you never wanted to touch me. You’re too busy staring at the heart eyes that my brother has for you to notice me. Of all the people you could have why the hell did it have to be him?” 

Castiel was in shock, still trying to process what was going on. Dean was actually breaking up with his sister, right before his eyes, and now she was calling him out on his crush. He couldn’t speak, not sure what to say. 

“This has nothing to do with him,” Dean said, instinctively stepping in front of Castiel as though he were in real danger. He was too shocked at the discovery to think of a better comeback, a lie, something.

“Yes, it does. All you ever want to do is hang out with that freak. I’m going to make sure everyone at school knows that it’s true. Dean Winchester is nothing but a faggot and he’s completely gay for that freak show Castiel. You won’t have a reputation by the time I’m through with you. You should never have left me,” she spat. 

“I should have left you a long time ago,” Dean was turning red, and it was hard to tell if it was from embarrassment or anger, maybe both, “I would rather be the school faggot than be your boyfriend. Go ahead and try to ruin me, but don’t you think for a goddamn second that I will let you keep hurting him. Play that game with me, and we’ll see who gets ruined- reputation isn’t shit to me, but I’m willing to bet it’s everything to someone as plastic as the crown she wants so badly,” Dean warned. 

“What the hell is wrong with you, Dean?” Anna spat, “I can’t believe you’d choose him over me. You really are as fucked up as everyone says you are.”

There was more rustling from downstairs, “Is everything alright up there?” Mrs. Novak called, obviously setting down bags.

“Yeah, mom,” Castiel and Anna both lied in unison, glaring at each other in the process. Over the years there was little they could agree on, but mom was one of them. 

“What a coincidence,” Dean smiled, “You really are just as much of a bitch as everyone knows you are. I don’t really care that I’m fucked up, kind of used to it, princess,” he used the word as an insult, “Don’t think Cas minds either. You don’t deserve him.”

“I don’t want him!” she snarled back, “I wish I was an only child! I’m not going to let this happen. Do you really think once mom hears-”

“Once mom hears what, honey?” Mrs. Novak had crept upstairs, looking between the three of them, both Anna and Dean furious, and Castiel pale as a sheet.

“Mom, Dean just broke up with me!” Anna said, trying to put on an innocent tone to get her way, “Tell him to leave. Now. I never want to see his face again! Ever!”

“Mom…” Castiel retorted hesitantly, speaking up, feeling like he might be sick, “Dean’s here for me...he doesn’t have to go, right?”

“You only want him here because you stole him from me! You’re totally gay for each other! Mom, tell him to leave…” Anna stomped, as Castiel’s face went completely blank.

Castiel had always imagined what it would be like if his mom found out one of his deepest darkest secrets. This sure as hell wasn’t ever how he pictured it going. For a moment his knees felt weak and he felt like he might topple down the stairs. His vocal cords wouldn’t work. 

Even Dean looked surprised that Anna could just out Castiel in front of his mom...it was cruel, and it wasn’t her place. He opened his mouth to try to explain but was met with Mrs. Novak holding her hands up.

“Anna, go to your room.”

“Mom! Are you really taking his side with this? You should hear what they say about Dean at school- you can’t let them embarrass me like this…”

Mrs. Novak’s look harshened, “Anna, go to your room, now.”

Anna turned on her heel, slamming the door to her room. Seconds later, loud R&B music began to blare.

“Mrs. Novak...I…” Dean managed.

“Will you wait in Castiel’s room, Dean?” she interrupted, “I don’t mind if you stay...I’d just like a few moments with Castiel. Please leave Anna be.”

Dean nodded, shooting a worried look at Castiel. He couldn’t imagine what would happen if someone had outed him to his dad. He didn’t know if they’d just pack up and move, if dad would beat him, or disown him, take Sammy away from him...none of them were pleasant thoughts. His heart crunched for Cas. “Yes, ma’am…” he conceded, going into Castiel’s room and shutting the door softly.

“I know,” Mrs. Novak whispered to Castiel, putting her arm around his shoulder, “Sweetheart, I know. Let’s go down to the kitchen, and get some cocoa.”

Castiel felt his entire body shaking, his throat tight, “What?”

“Well, sweetheart, I’d like it if you were the one to tell me. So, is it true?” She said, smiling as she led him to the kitchen, pulling three cups out of the cupboard, and milk out of the fridge, pouring it into a large teapot and setting it over the stove.

Castiel’s heart pounded. His knees felt like they might give out on him again.

Mrs. Novak set everything aside, going to Castiel, able to tell how afraid he was. She wrapped her arms protectively around him, kissing the top of his head and whispering into his hair, “It’s okay. You can tell me anything.”

Even with her embrace, Castiel was scared. He didn’t want to lose Dean, the time they had, their sleepovers. He’d known that when and if this day eventually came, he’d be helpless to lie to her...she, like Dean, could always tell.

“Yeah, mom…” Castiel said softly, “I’m…” The word stuck there for a moment, “I’m gay.” All the breath escaped him, and he felt an almost instant relief.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” she said, smoothing his hair, not letting him go, “We’ve known for a long time, Castiel.” She smiled against his hair, “Even before you asked for a tea set to match Balthazar’s when you were ten. And, Dean?”

Castiel nodded, blushing, “I’m with Dean.”

“We thought that might be the case,” she admitted, trying not to cry, “You seem...so much happier with him, Castiel. We...we really like Dean, and Sam, too. And, we love you, Castiel, this doesn’t change that. My silly boy, nothing in the world could change how much I love you.”

She stepped back, tracing his cheek, a stray tear running down hers as she smiled, “I’m so glad you’re happy.”

“You’re not mad about Anna?”

“Dean and Anna were never going to last. She will slow down one day, and find someone right for her. Dean wasn’t that person...I think he had his heart set on you.”

Castiel blushed before the gears in his head began turning. His mom had said ‘we’. “Wait a minute...dad knows too?” 

“Yes, son,” Chuck said, smiling as he came in and sat down the last of the boxes and rubbed his hands together to warm up from outside. “I couldn’t help but overhear. I don’t see what the big deal is. I had my fun back in my day before I met your mother. Had some girlfriends...had a few boyfriends...you making cocoa, sweetie?” 

“Wait...what, dad?” Castiel said, shocked.

“I asked your mom if she was making cocoa,” he said with a smile. 

“Yes, dear,” Mrs. Novak said, pulling down another cup.

Castiel was numb. He’d been in therapy for months, one of his biggest fears being that his family would find out about his secret, and here they were...perfectly fine with it. He was almost disappointed that there wasn’t some huge dramatic scene...that all of his fears about Dean, about everything, had been for nothing. 

“I’m happy for you, Castiel,” Mrs. Novak said again, earnestly,” filling the cups with a spoonful of cocoa powder, “Dad and I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. We had the feeling it had something to do with Dean.” 

She started to say something more, but then looked at Chuck hesitantly, afraid to continue.

Chuck looked confused for a moment, trying to figure out what she was trying to convey without words. Then he remembered all of their talks about this moment happening. “Oh. And, son,” he leaned in, whispering, “Don’t forget to be safe. You know. Use protection.” 

“Dad!” Castiel said, almost choking on his words, his face going crimson, “I’m not..I mean ...we’re not...doing that…”  _ Yet...possibly soon...oh God….maybe tonight…. _

“Well, just remember when you do, ok son?” Chuck said, patting him on the shoulder. 

“Ok...ok….can we not talk about that? Like ever again?” 

Mrs. Novak was just as red as Castiel, and didn’t answer the question, appearing to be satisfied with Chuck’s ‘talk’. “Ahem, Alright, sweetheart,” she said, evading the subject as she finished stirring the milk in with the cocoa and sitting two on a silver tray, putting some cookies in the middle, “This is for you and Dean. I’ll bring Anna’s up, later. Before you go back upstairs, was this the one you wanted me to get Sam?” She opened up one of the black bags Chuck had just brought in, pulling out a box. “They are coming for Christmas, right?”

 

* * *

 

 

When Castiel arrived back upstairs, Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his legs, impatiently awaiting a verdict. He stood up nervously when he heard the door swing open, looking expectantly at Castiel.

He set the tray of cocoa down, smiling at Dean. “Hey,” he said, nervously, “Sorry about all that.”

“Cocoa fixes everything?” Dean asked, walking up to Castiel, pulling him into his arms and holding him tight, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he said, clinging onto Dean. 

“Am I supposed to leave?” Dean asked hesitantly, gripping Cas a little tighter as if protesting against the idea. He pressed his lips to the top of his head.

“No,” Castiel replied, quickly, “Surprisingly, they’re fine with it. Apparently, they’ve known for a long time...at least about me. It’s weird. I was so afraid of what you’d say if I told you, and so afraid of what my parents would say if they found out, and now...everything’s fine. I was terrified for nothing.” 

“That’s…”  _ Really surprising. I can’t imagine my family ever being okay with it...well, other than Sammy.  _ “That’s really good, though, Cas. I’m happy for you. About your parents. Well, and about us. I’m…” he smiled, pulling back, “I’m happy about us, too.” He walked a couple of steps to the bed, before pulling his shirt off again and laying down, opening his arms up to Castiel.

Castiel climbed in bed beside him, laying his head on Dean’s chest. “I’m really happy about us, I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy before. I’ve liked you for a really long time, Dean.” 

Dean knew the feeling. He’d known happiness at fleeting times throughout his life and had some happy memories that he liked to dwell on. He was lucky enough to remember mom cutting the crusts off of his sandwiches, and bubble baths, and watching Sam learn to walk, and talk (though he’d come to regret teaching him sometimes, later), ballgames with Uncle Bobby, building tent forts with Sam...hell, there were even some good memories with dad and hunting. Even with the best of his memories, he still didn’t think he could remember being as happy as he was right now, at this place in his life. “Me either,” he said, truthfully. He tilted his head a bit, “How long?” He was curious, running his fingers through Castiel’s hair.  _ How long has it been since I could have ended the pretense? How long could I have been touching him like this? _

“Since the first time we went to the arcade. I knew that day. I think I knew even before that,” Castiel smiled, running his fingers gently over Dean’s chest. 

Dean couldn’t help a soft laugh, “There’s...a secret I wanted to confess, Cas,” he said, with a smile, kissing his cheek, nuzzling against his warm skin, “The first one you asked me, actually. Why I was dating Anna.”

Castiel propped up on an elbow, eager to finally learn the truth, “So….why were you dating her?” 

“Well, you see,” Dean started, grinning, “Truth is, it all started pretty early after I moved here. There was this boy in my US History class- and he was beautiful and kind and smart as hell. He was different, and I couldn’t help falling for him. I begged Mr. Thomas to put the boy and I in a study group together, and I tried going to the library after school...but no matter what I did, he wouldn’t notice me. He was kinda in his own world and I was...I was jealous. I wanted to be a part of that. So, I did something I wasn’t proud of. I found out he had a sister, who was really more than eager to notice me. Dating her was probably the closest thing to hell I’ve ever been in.”  _ And I’ve seen demons.  _ “Moving past that, one day, the guy actually noticed me. Told me to stop tapping my damn pencil in study hall. I convinced him to come outside, hoping that he’d watch me play stupid football, and fate blew away his homework...and we became best friends. And now…” he smiled, “Now.”

His words hit Castiel hard.  _ It had been that long? Since U.S.history? He’s right. I had barely noticed him then. And that year had been so awful...he could have made it so much better.  _ The painful realization made Castiel tear up a bit, his eyes watering threatening to fall onto Dean’s chest and expose him. 

“That guy sounds like an asshole,” Castiel replied, trying to laugh it off, “I’m glad you ended up with me instead.”

“Hey,” Dean said, noticing Castiel’s tears before they even touched him. His rough fingers gently wiped them away from his eyes, cradling him close, “What is it?”

Castiel jumped a little, not expecting Dean to touch him.  _ No. I can’t tell you the truth. I just want to be happy with you, Dean. I don’t want to think about that.  _

“It’s just...I can’t believe we’ve felt like this for so long. We could have been happy so much sooner.” 

“We can be happy now,” Dean assured him, kissing his lips gently, “I want to make you happy, Cas. I always want to make you happy.” he smiled, “I’m in love with you. I want you to know that. This, what we have, it’s more than what we did earlier. I want to be your firsts, Cas...but…” Dean blushed a little, not usually so fluent when it came to matters of the heart, “I want to be your lasts, too. I know that we’re young...but it’s how I feel.”  _ Right now, and hopefully forever... _ “I need you to know that.”

Castiel’s heart flipped in his chest. “I want to be your lasts too Dean. I...I love you. I love you a lot.” He kissed Dean back. 

“I wish you’d been my firsts,” Dean said, between soft, tender kisses, as his fingers brushed through Castiel’s hair, unable to stop touching him.

“I don’t know. I guess at least one of us knows what we’re doing,” Castiel said blushing, “Of course, if I was your first then you wouldn’t be able to tell if I was bad at it, huh?” 

Dean laughed, burying his face into Castiel’s neck and kissing him there, too, “You’re not bad at it.” 

Amidst so much happiness, a sudden darkness filled Dean’s heart, making his blood run cold, his heart hammer in his chest, “Cas...if...if I leave...if I have to leave...would you wait for me?” He’d come back. No matter what happened, where, why or how, he vowed, he’d come back for this.

“Yeah, Dean,” Castiel nodded, “I’d wait for you. I don’t think I could ever be this happy with anyone else. I just...I hope you don’t have to leave.” He held Dean tighter. 

_ Me too, baby. I hope that...more than anything. I hope that dad forgets me, I hope that I can stay here- like this, with you. I hope I can make you proud of me, that we can grow together...that what we have here never changes. I won’t make the mistake of leaving...no matter what it costs me.  _

“I’d never leave for long...never leave you for too long. Be mine, Cas,” Dean said, not sure whether he was asking or telling, “Only mine. Please say yes.” He felt almost as though he were proposing, he was so nervous, even though the obvious answer was…

“I thought I already was?” Castiel laughed a little, “I’ve always been yours, Dean. I still am. Will you be mine too? My...boyfriend?”  _ Finally. Instead of Anna’s. Please, Dean, say yes.  _

“I already was, always yours. Yeah, Cas, I’ll be your boyfriend,” he said, kissing Cas’ neck again.

Castiel moaned softly. His neck was so sensitive. He clung to Dean, wrapping his arms around his neck. “Dean…” he whimpered.

Dean’s arms snaked around Castiel’s waist, dragging him tight against him, “And your parents were fine with you being my boyfriend?” he teased, licking up to Cas’ ear.

“Yeah…” he said breathlessly. His ears were just as sensitive as his neck, maybe more so, “My dad gave me this whole talk….about protection. You have protection….right Dean?” 

Castiel couldn’t help but rub his hand against Dean’s cock through the fabric of his jeans. 

Dean groaned, pushing his hips against Castiel’s hand. He was already so hard, aching for Cas’ touch, “I…” he said, kissing Castiel’s ear and neck again, appreciating the bit of relief his  _ boyfriend _ was giving him, “I don’t think we’re gonna get that far. Not tonight.” Not even if Cas was ready. It would be too fast. Dean wouldn’t be able to hold out long. His fingers dug into Castiel’s hips at the thought, though.

“But Dean,” Castiel purred, “Please? I want you to. I...I’ve been practicing...for you...thinking about you.”

Dean shuddered, exhaling into Castiel’s ear. He’d never heard words that turned him on that much, even in his imagination where there were similar scenarios happening, “What do you mean?” he asked breathlessly, imagining Castiel, laying in bed, touching himself, toying with himself, picturing Dean doing all of these things to him. 

“I….you said....that to start out, most people use their fingers. So...I’ve been practicing...for you. I want you, Dean. I want you so bad. It’s all I can think about when I touch myself.” 

Dean moved his hand away from Cas’ hip, cupping it instead over the hand that Castiel was using to torment him, pressing him roughly against the entire length of him, “I’m a lot bigger than your fingers. We’ll get you there, don’t worry. Tonight, I had something else in mind,” he pulled back, looking at Castiel mischievously. 

Castiel’s eyes lit up. “Like what?” he asked, both nervous and excited.

Dean smirked, rolling to where he was positioned above Cas, looking down on his beloved, who was now flat on his back. He took Castiel’s glasses off, setting them on the nightstand, before pulling Castiel’s shirt off. He hadn’t had the heart earlier to tell him he’d put it on inside-out. He placed his hand over Cas’ eyes. “Close your eyes.” He’d wanted to do this for so long. 

“Wait, Dean,” Castiel said in a hushed voice, sitting up a little, “Turn the light out. So my parents think we’re asleep.”

“Okay,” Dean nodded, reaching for the drawstring of the ceiling fan. As soon as the lights were off, the room was lightly glistening from the glow of Castiel’s stars. “Close your eyes,” he repeated. 

_ I love you, Castiel. I love you more than I can put into words…  _ Dean kissed Castiel’s lips softly, moving from lips to chin, to neck, as he sank lower, beginning to fumble with the button of Castiel’s pants, “Keep them closed.”

_ I love you more than every single star in the sky. We could watch them all fall a hundred times, and still, you’re more beautiful.  _

Dean slipped Castiel’s pants down as his lips reached his stomach. He could feel Castiel shaking already, knowing what was about to happen.

“Dean…”

“Shh…”

Castiel’s stomach was full of nerves.  _ Oh God. What does he have in mind? Is he going to...oh God… _

Dean nipped gently at Castiel’s hip bones, kissing them afterward, pressing his hands back into his hips before Castiel felt himself being pulled down, then the warmth of Dean’s lips closing around his cock, tongue running up and down the length of it.

“Fuck,” he moaned loudly, before clamping a hand over his mouth. He’d never felt this amazing in his life. Dean was everything he’d ever fantasized about and more. He looked down at Dean in the dark, and he could see his head moving up and down just like he’d pictured hundreds of times. He moaned against his hand, trying so hard to keep quiet. 

Dean reached up, pulling Castiel’s hand away, as though telling him  _ I want to hear you _ . Instead, he laced his fingers with Cas’, holding his hand tightly as he continued to lick up every drop of precome Castiel gave him, growing addicted to the taste already, feeling more and more confined in his jeans as he pushed his own hips gently against the bed for some relief. 

“Dean...they’ll hear…,” he pleaded, trying to form words. 

Castiel’s legs were shaking so badly, and he knew already that he wouldn’t last long. He was almost embarrassed at how fast it was going to be over. He squeezed Dean’s hand tight, still trying to be quiet. He bit his bottom lip to stifle the sounds Dean wrenched from him. 

_ Good. Let them.  _ Dean moaned his approval as he continued listening to each sound as he went, learning quickly where Castiel’s most sensitive spots were, and using them to his advantage. He gave a few strokes with his hand, getting sticky spit on his fingers. 

He could feel how close Castiel was, his body stiff and rigid, legs shaking, precome leaking gradually into his mouth...Dean knew exactly how to send him over.  _ Practicing for me, hmm?  _

_ Want to feel you, Cas… _

As his tongue grazed the most sensitive spots, he let his fingers slip down from Castiel’s cock, sliding one into his ass without warning. He was so warm and tight that Dean couldn’t help but picture what it would feel like to bury himself inside of his loved one, to take him fully and completely. He nearly came without being touched at the very thought, moaning around Castiel.

A loud moan ripped from Castiel. He couldn’t form words as he came harder than he ever had in his life. He didn’t even have time to warn Dean, but it was hard to feel guilty when his mouth felt this good. He was tighter around Dean’s finger as he continued coming into his mouth. He squeezed Dean’s hand harder, as his other hand gently ran fingers through his hair.

Dean swallowed every drop eagerly, and greedily, before coming up to look at Castiel, small droplets of sweat on his face, his own body shaking. His lover was so sweet, tasted so good, and Dean wanted more. He liked the taste so much, that he didn’t really consider Castiel might not, before he kissed him again, “I love you…” 

“Dean,” he said, kissing him frantically, “I love you too. I’m sorry. It happened so fast, I didn’t have time to warn you. I didn’t mean to…” 

“I like it,” Dean whispered, “Don’t apologize. You never have to apologize to me. I love you, all of you. That too,” he smiled.

He gently slipped out of Castiel, before pulling him into his arms, kissing him again, and again, not really caring about anything else, but the fact that for the first time in his life, he had exactly what he wanted and was never letting go.

_ I love you, Castiel, for lighting up the darkness in my life. _

_ Don’t ever change. Stay exactly as you are. _

_ I love you. Stay with me...don’t ever let me go. _

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song List for Chapter 5:
> 
> "Oops...I Did it Again" by Britney Spears
> 
> **Notes from the Author**  
> See, I told you all I wasn't always cruel and heartless. ;)  
> Now, begs the question that since there's still so much more to be written (an estimated 35 more chapters)...can Dean and Castiel hold onto this happiness?  
> Thoughts are welcome! ;)  
> Love you all.


	6. Wayward Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you're in love, time seems to go faster, until you're not together anymore.  
> Dean, Sam and Amber are pulled away on an important hunt, and Dean learns a lesson about what real family is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings for this Chapter**: Family Abuse, Violence, John Winchester
> 
> Sorry for the long wait on this chapter, it took way longer than originally anticipated. It's been a rough month, and there are a lot of important things happening this chapter. We see the introduction of a lot of characters. There's some of Dean and Cas, of course, but a lot of this focuses on the 'family' aspect, and Dean being a hunter, which has been a bit overdue, so bear with me.  
> The next chapter will be the Christmas chapter, so a lot of good and fluffy things to come from there- I promise I will do my best to get it up before Christmas.  
> There are a lot of Easter Eggs hidden in this chapter- so, again, I love when people notice them, as well as adore comments and feedback. Those things are what keep me going. Thank you all for being so amazing!  
> Happy Holidays, and a ton of love.  
> 

* * *

 

* * *

_ November 27, 1998  _

 

_ I can’t believe everything that’s happened. Dean broke up with Anna and asked me to be his boyfriend. My parents are completely fine with me being gay. I lost my virginity to Dean...well, sort of. We haven’t done that quite yet. Dean says we’ll get there one day, and that he can’t wait either. We did give each other a blow job, which is just as amazing as everyone makes it sound. I was so nervous to do it for Dean, he’s so big and I was afraid I would be bad at it, but he tasted so good and the sounds he made when he was coming...he said my name again. It gave me goosebumps.  _

_ He asked me to Prom. I can’t believe it. I’m actually going to Prom with Dean, and he’s my boyfriend. Anna is going to be so pissed to see me there. Mom will have to go take me to buy a tux. She’ll probably get all teary eyed.  _

_ I wonder how it works for guys like us. Like, are we supposed to match each other? Like other couples do? I’ll talk to Dean about it here in the next couple days. He’ll probably laugh at me. _

 

_ November 28, 1998 _

 

_ Today, Dean and Sam came over to help put the Christmas decorations up. Mom had me and Dean bring all the decorations down from the attic. Dad put the lights up outside, while the rest of us worked on the tree. We all voted on what we thought we should put out this year. We decided on lots of multicolored lights. Sam thought it would be a great idea to have blue and silver garland both. It was almost too much on the tree, but mom smiled and said she liked it. Then we began putting up tons of ornaments on it. We decided we should go with the angel on top of the tree this year. Mom let Sam put the angel on top, even though he’s not as tall as me or Dean. He was so excited. Dean pulled me aside and called me his angel. I think I lit up brighter than the tree did. Then he said he couldn’t wait for me to be on top of him, and winked at me. I think I was so red I almost died.  _

_ Mom put up more decorations around the house. She had a snowy village that she set out, along with a Santa Clause and Mrs. Clause that rocked back and forth in a pair of rocking chairs, and, of course, stockings. She even put up a stocking for Dean and Sam too. Dean particularly liked the addition of the new candy bowl, filled with red and green M & M’s.  _

_ After all the decorations were up, Mom decided that we should all make gingerbread houses and gingerbread men. While we waited on the cookies to cool so we could decorate them, we watched  _ How the Grinch Stole Christmas _. We decorated cookies and Dean and Sam stayed for dinner. It felt like for the first time we were all a real family. I don’t think Dean and Sam are used to the whole family scene. It really makes me sad that their own family hasn’t been there for them much. I’m glad Mom and Dad are there for them. They deserve to have a family. _

 

_ November 29, 1998 _

 

_ Dean and I had our first real date. We went to the diner for burgers and milkshakes. I got a vanilla milkshake and Dean got a strawberry and chocolate side by side. We didn’t sit across from each other, Dean came around and sat beside me instead. He held my hand under the booth. I could hear my heart pounding. I think Connie knows we’re together now, like officially. She smiles even more whenever we come in now.  _

_ After we had dinner, Dean had me practice driving in the snow. I fishtailed a little and then we decided it was probably best that he drive.  We went back to my house and watched a movie. I don’t even remember what it was called, because we spent the whole time making out instead.  _

_ Mom sent Dean home shortly after because it was a school night, and no matter how much I pleaded with her to change her mind she said it was for the best. I was sad to see him go, but he called me when he got home and we talked until we fell asleep with each other still on the phone.  _

 

_ December 10, 1998 _

_ I almost had a heart attack last night. I was going to sleep when all of a sudden I felt arms wrapping around me. It was Dean. He’d climbed up to the second story window and climbed in bed with me. I thought we were going to get in so much trouble, but as soon as he started kissing me I found myself not caring.  _

_ Dean can be very persuasive. I’m ashamed to admit I’ve let him pull me behind the bleachers on more than one occasion already and kiss me senseless, my heart was pounding the entire time at the fear that we might be caught.  _

_ After school, we’ve been coming over to my house and well...I hate to say Dean’s a bad influence...but we haven’t exactly been studying. I can’t help it. It’s so hard to go the whole school day without touching him, kissing him.  _

_ Tomorrow’s prom. I didn’t think it was possible to be this nervous. I’m not sure why I’m nervous, but I haven’t felt like this since the night I told Dean I love him and I came out to my parents. I feel sick. Oh God, what if I end up throwing up all over Dean? Again.  _

_ Dean tried to make me feel better by telling me it’s just a dance, but I’ve never really been to a real dance before, much less with my boyfriend. Besides, Dean doesn’t really care for dancing. He doesn’t even think he can. I bet he’s not that bad at it, even if he can’t play DDR. I guess as long as I don’t throw up on him it’ll be a good night. _

_ December 11,1998 _

 

_ Prom was pretty amazing. I didn’t throw up on Dean, thank god. He showed up with daffodils and blue roses and a single blue rose that he pinned to my tux. Dean was wearing a blue vest and matching tie, and his hair was parted and slicked back. He looked like a prince out of some fairytale. Does that make me the girl? My mom teared up and said her little boy was all grown up, before making us taking pictures with Anna and her date Aaron.  _

_ We spent a lot of the night talking over punch. Every once in awhile when a really good song would come on, Dean would pull me out into one of the empty hallway and we’d dance together. Dean was crowned Prom King and the look on Anna’s face was priceless. He danced with the Prom Queen, some junior I’d never heard of. He came over to me and pulled me back into the hallway, and kissed me. The last song was Amazed, by Lonestar, and as we danced Dean put his crown on me. He said I deserved it way more than him, which is so not true. I still have his crown though. I’m starting to get a whole Dean collection going on.  _

 

Castiel closed the journal, looking back at all the happy memories. He shoved the journal in the bottom of his desk. He hadn’t written anything in a couple days, because nothing good had happened. Soon after Prom, Dean’s uncle had showed up and said he needed him for a hunt. He’d pulled him directly out of class, so Castiel hadn’t really even gotten the chance for a goodbye.

Dean had been gone for three days now, and with him went a good deal of Castiel’s happiness. So he’d spent most of his time, cooped up in his room, wearing Dean’s leather jacket, and listening to classic rock.  Led Zeppelin filed his ears. It reminded Castiel of the Zeppelin shirt that was one of Dean’s favorites. He missed the way he smelled. His mind raced with the horrible possibilities that could be happening to his boyfriend right now. 

_ I really hope he’s alright. What if something happens to him? What if he gets attacked by a bear or something? Or someone accidentally shoots him? Or, what if he’s freezing out in the woods somewhere?  _ He pulled Dean’s leather jacket tighter around him. 

While he was lost in thought for the hundredth time, the phone rang. Anna answered the phone from her room, then could be heard berating the person on the other side, “I’m waiting for a phone call, Dean. He’s probably just being boring anyway. No, I am not still- ugh…” There was a pause. 

One bathroom door opened, then another, and Anna threw the phone at Castiel, “It’s for you, freak.”

“Hello?” Castiel said, more confused than anything else. 

“Hey, babe,” Dean’s voice cracked from the other end. Wherever he was, the reception was bad.

“Dean!” Castiel shot up in bed, “Are you ok? Are you hurt? Where are you? When are you coming back?” 

“I’m fine,” Dean assured, continuing on, the signal so bad that Castiel didn’t catch a word until “...don’t know when. Promised I’d call...bad signal...Murray City, Ohio. Middle of fucking nowhere.”

Castiel was confused why they had to travel so far away to go hunting, but maybe his uncle had friends out there or something. His heart ached, hearing that he was so far away. It certainly explained the bad reception, which was currently whining on the phone over Dean’s voice.

“...Miss you baby.” Dean said.

“I miss you so much, Dean. I’ve been so worried about you,” Castiel said, clutching onto the phone for dear life, “I hadn’t heard from you...I thought something terrible might have happened. You should have taken your leather jacket so you’d be warm.”

“Don’t worry, I have a coat, Cas,” Dean laughed on the other end, the sound causing Castiel’s nerves to settle. He could picture Dean smiling beside him, “It’s just a hunt. I’ll be back before you know it, so don’t eat all the M & Ms.”

Castiel couldn’t think of what to say, the only thoughts coming to mind being ‘I miss you’ over, and over again. He held the phone tighter as Dean continued.

“How are you, Cas?”

“I’m…” 

Castiel was cut out by a robotic voice informing them that they had a little under two minutes left to the call. Dean could be heard fumbling around in the background before swearing, “Shit, I’m out of quarters. Tell me you’re fine, need to…” there was more static, so his last words cut out.

“I’m fine, Dean. I’m okay, baby. I love you...I love you so much.” Castiel clung to the receiver, trying to hold onto Dean.

“I love you too, sunshine.”

Dean had recently started using the pet name, and it usually made Castiel’s heart flutter. Now he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He didn’t feel like sunshine. With Dean gone, his life felt like storm clouds.

“...Dean?” Castiel asked quietly, “Will you be home for Christmas?”

“Soon as I can...I’ll do my best…” the phone garbled back to him, “You know I miss you, right? Miss you in my arms, miss your smile…”

The voice came on the line again, letting them know that in fifteen seconds their call would disconnect. Castiel felt tears stinging his eyes.

“Dean? Dean? I love you. I love you…” he repeated pathetically.

“I love you Cas, I’ll be home soon, don’t wo-”

The call ended with a click, followed by a dial tone.

“Dean? Dean? Dean!” Castiel repeated, shaking the receiver before finally turning the phone off. He sank back into the pillows, fresh  tears falling down his cheeks, as he pulled the blankets up over his head. 

It wasn’t more than a few minutes later, before Castiel could even think of going to sleep, that a soft, “Cassie?” Came from the doorway. “Is it a bad time? I thought we agreed on 7:30.”

Castiel had almost forgotten that Balthazar was coming over to do Christmas. The two of them always celebrated early because Balthazar was never in Sioux Falls for the actual celebrating. Both he, and his father flew a private plane back to London to visit Balthazar’s grandmum and celebrate with their small family.

Balthazar had also been extending the invitation to Castiel every year since they were about eight years old. There was always a reason the answer was no. Usually, it was because Mrs. Novak didn’t approve of the idea. She’d never been entirely fond of Balthazar, or Mr. Roche, but they tolerated each other, because Balthazar was the best friend Castiel had ever had, and had been since grade school.

Castiel peeked from under the covers, scrambling to look less pathetic than he currently did, bundled up in blankets and his boyfriend’s leather jacket, crying because he hadn’t seen him in a week.

Balthazar stood in the doorway, dressed classic Balthazar, a dress shirt with a vest over the top, this time with a black peacoat and scarf. Behind him was an older man with a bit of a thick build. His hair was starting to gray beneath the Santa hat that Castiel was almost positive Balthazar had put on him. In his hands was an enormous box, decorated with purple wrapping paper and gold ribbon.

That was Hershal. He was Balthazar’s personal driver, and somewhat of a caretaker...he had been since Castiel had met Balthazar forever ago. Hershal never seemed to mind Balthazar’s flamboyance, but at the same time kept him grounded. They were a great team.

“I could come back later,” Balthazar said from the doorway.

“No, come in. Merry Christmas, Balthazar,” Castiel said, replacing the tears with a smile, even though his mind was telling him that now Dean was gone, and Balthazar was leaving, too.

“Were you crying?” Balthazar asked, accepting the invitation and closing the distance between them almost instantly, wrapping an arm around Castiel and wiping a tear away with the spare hand.

Castiel instinctively moved away from Balthazar’s embrace, still smiling. Their dynamic had changed a bit since Dean, even though Castiel didn’t really notice. There was less of a physical closeness between them, which was the reason for the frown on Balthazar’s face.

“I’m fine, Balthazar,” Castiel affirmed again, noticing Hershal standing awkwardly in the doorway, straining against the large present. “Hershal, come in. Here, set that thing down somewhere before you get hurt. Honestly, Balthazar, what are you up to this year?”

Balthazar shrugged as though it were no big deal. It couldn’t have come as a surprise. Balthazar always pulled out the stops on Christmas...so much so that his dad and Castiel’s mom had to start coordinating Christmas presents. Balthazar had good intentions, but he didn’t really know the meaning of a price limit...such a thing hadn’t existed for him in his entire life. His dad owned a series of banks, and a large number of stocks, all of which had done well for them. “It’s Christmas,” he said, “I always spoil you on Christmas. You yell at me any other time.”

Castiel blushed. It was true. If Balthazar tried to give him gifts throughout the year, Castiel would chastise him. 

In effort to hide his own embarrassment, knowing that Balthazar had outdone him yet again, and gloated in it (the bastard), he handed his friend a smallish box, wrapped in red and green paper with a big gold bow.

Balthazar was always impatient, probably stemming from getting his way all the time, and easily, but when it came to the wrapping paper, he took his time, carefully unfolding it instead of ripping it. It ended up perfectly preserved, right down to the bow, as a box fell into his lap. Lifting the lid, Balthazar ran his fingers over a black leather-bound journal, with gold page edgings. His name was engraved on the front in gold as well, and with the journal were two sterling silver pens that also bore the name Balthazar Roche.

Balthazar smiled down at the box, “Beautiful, Cassie.”

It hadn’t been cheap, but Castiel had wanted to try to do something heartfelt for Balthazar since they hadn’t been spending as much time together lately, “It’s not much, but, I figure it’s never too early to prepare for Harvard.”

“I love them, truly, Cassie,” Balthazar said. “I still...I still wish you would consider going to college on the East Coast.”

“I know you do,” Castiel frowned, “But you know I can’t. I have my family, and Dean here. There’s a good school in-state, and it’s not like I’m inheriting a business or anything,” he teased.

The  _ I’ll miss you, though _ went unspoken between them, as Balthazar nodded towards the box on the floor, “It’s your turn, love.”

“Unwrap it on the floor,” Hershal warned gently, “It’s too heavy to lift.”

Castiel took a moment to ponder what could be in the box, before deciding that knowing Balthazar, it could really be anything. He ripped through the paper, revealing a large box with a computer pictured that said ‘Gateway’.

Balthazar looked smug as Castiel’s eyes widened, “It’s the best Gateway. And it’s Yourware activated. Dad says in a few years, computers will grow exponentially, so with Yourware, we can upgrade yours when new ones are released. And it comes with the Internet,” he boasted. “Your mum said Hershal could hook it up, that way you can email me while I’m in England, or even when you’re bored. That, and you can type up school papers from home, no more library. Just save them on the little floppy disks and you can print them out in the morning.”

It was still seconds that went by before Castiel finally responded, “Balthazar...are you...are you serious? I can’t accept this. It must have cost…”

“It’s Christmas. You can’t be mad about it on Christmas,” Balthazar said matter-of-factly. “Oh, and dad wanted me to give you these,” he pulled an envelope out of his peacoat, “They’re stocks. For Apple, and Microsoft, the computer companies. They’re his Christmas present to you. He says if the stocks go like he thinks they will, they could help you pay for college, or something nice.”

Castiel didn’t know much about stocks. He’d give them to his mom and maybe she could figure it out and do something for him with them. He still knew that it was important, “You’ll tell him thank you for me? He didn’t need to…”

“He wanted to. You’re my best friend, Cassie. He also said that the offer still stands on coming with us, pending that your mum ever says yes,” he teased.

Usually, Castiel would ask, even though he knew the answer would be ‘no’ or ‘maybe senior year’ now that he was getting older. This time, the answer came from him, “I can’t this year.”

“Dean?”

Castiel nodded, “They haven’t really had Christmas, so mom kind of went all out. They have presents under the tree, and we’re going to go drive around town and see the lights if they make it back in time. I...I really hope they make it back in time.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Dean!” Bobby yelled across the yard, “Take Amber and get back to the car. Now!” 

Dean held the blade in his hand, ignoring the gash in his side, as his other hand connected with the vampire’s face. He couldn’t help but think of Cas. It wasn’t but a couple hours ago he’d heard his loved one’s voice. He’d told him he was fine, and now he was fucking bleeding. He imagined the worried look on Cas’s face. It only made him hit harder, until his hands were bleeding, too. 

It shouldn’t be this difficult. This nest was one of the biggest Dean had ever seen, and they hadn’t even come across the leader yet. Some of them, he was sure, were lurking in wait, and he knew that retreating now would result in shit from dad later. Since when did it become so difficult to hunt? Maybe if dad had taken him more...trusted him more...

That thought made him more angry, too. As his fist connected with the vamp’s face over and over again the head rolled off on to the ground, and for a split second he felt really strong, until he saw the pissed off look on Uncle Bobby’s face, standing behind the vamp, machete in hand, as the body collapsed to the ground. “I said take Amber and head back to the car. Do it now, Dean.” 

Dean looked like he might argue for a minute before he caught Amber out of the corner of his eye, struggling with her own vamp and unaware of a second closing in behind her. Dean fired his gun at the one behind her. It wouldn’t kill it, but it would slow it down a bit. He stepped between Amber and the second vamp, fighting back to back together. 

“I thought you had my back Dean?” Amber yelled over her shoulder before kicking the vamp back away from her. 

“I do, don’t I? What’s it look like I’m doing?” Dean shot back, his knife clinking against the vamp’s blade. The fuck kind of vampires carried swords, anyway? The knights of the round table of bloodsuckers? He felt like this was coming straight out of an episode of Buffy, and every move he took, Castiel could compare him to her, or to Angel. 

“It looks like you’re somewhere else,” Amber retorted, “And you’re getting sloppy. You know, Sam will be real pissed if you end up getting me killed out here.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Dean laughed, before getting defensive, “And I’m not sloppy.” Maybe a little. Maybe a lot. He was thinking of Castiel in every motion, every dodge, every swipe of the machete in his hand. Thinking about not getting hurt made him more likely to end up bloody...or on the ground. Normally, he thought of classic rock songs in his head as he danced with death...but now all he could hear was fucking  _ Amazed  _ by Lonestar, and feel Cas’ arms around him. His head was completely out of the game.

“Yeah, that blood suggests otherwise,” Amber countered, playing with him. 

Her blade was long, practically a sword in her hands. She finally knocked the vamp’s blade out of his hand and before he could retrieve it another head went rolling. She turned around in time to see Dean shoot the vamp in the face and while he was caught off guard Dean’s machete found its way through his neck. He looked over to see Bobby helping his dad take on three more vamps.

“Come on,” Dean said, taking Amber’s hand, “Let’s get back to the car.” 

John and Bobby made quick work of the last three vamps and joined them at the car before too long. John was silent outside the car as they all crowded in, before wiping his finger along the dash of the Impala, “Dean, you’re not taking care of it.”

All Dean heard was  _ You’re fucking everything up. _

No matter how many times it was implied, Dean never took it any better. Now there was something more for him. Until Castiel, he’d felt so small, so lost and out of control to Dad...but then that smile had shone like the fucking sun and he’d learned what happiness was. He’d begun learning to love himself, because he loved Castiel. He’d finally found a place...a place within his loved one’s heart that was all his own. Dad couldn’t take that from him. Dean wouldn’t let him. He didn’t bother answering.

There was a silence before John started the car, “Everyone alright?” 

“Dean got hit, but I think he’ll live,” Amber replied from the backseat.

John glanced back, taking a look at Dean. 

“It’s just a scratch, Dad,” Dean reassured. 

“You should never let your guard down, boy. Be more careful next time, or it could end up a lot worse than just a scratch.” 

“Yes, sir,” Dean said quietly. He wasn’t denying it. He hadn’t been this sloppy in a long time.

The whole ride to Ohio, Dean had wondered  _ why now _ ? It had been so long since their last hunting trip that he kept wondering why this one was different. Somewhere deep in the back of his heart, Dean had hoped that it was because Dad had missed them, had wanted them around for the holidays. But as they drove up here and Dean looked through the case file, it became clear. This particular nest had a preference for taking younger victims. They were here as bait, not because Dad missed them. 

Dean didn’t particularly mind the being bait part. He’d played that role several times. He was more worried about Sam, who rarely ever accompanied them on a hunt. If Dean remembered right, it had been three hunts that he and dad had flown solo on, since Sam had come along. The thought of him back at the cabin they were staying in, alone, pouring over research just didn’t sit well with him. 

However, Sam greeted them eagerly upon their arrival and unlike everyone else he was actually excited to see Dean’s cut. 

“Cool. Finally, something for me to do. Is it deep? Does it need stitches? Cause I’m good with stitches,” Sam asked, taking a closer look. He almost looked disappointed as he replied, “Ah, it’s not that deep. You just need a bandage and you’ll be fine. Come on, I’ll get you cleaned up.”

Bobby grabbed a couple beers from the fridge and handed one to John. 

“We got most of them, John. Maybe we should head back tomorrow. Get these boys back before the holidays.”

“It’s not enough,” John replied, taking a swig of beer, “We’re not finished here. There’s still at least half a nest out there. Besides, it’s obvious that they need the practice.” 

Bobby knew better than to think that ‘they’ included Sam and Amber, “It’s been awhile, John. Don’t be too hard on him.”

“I have to be hard on him. It’ll end up saving his life one day. I can tell he hasn’t been practicing at all. Probably too occupied with some girl.”

“Probably,” Bobby said, taking a drink of his beer, “He’s sixteen, can you blame him? What did you have on your mind at sixteen, John? Old yellow eyes?”

John shot him a dangerous look, “Being a soldier. Doing as I was told…” he grumbled, before shooting instructions at Bobby, “When you get back to Sioux Falls make sure he gets back to training.” 

“I will, but let him have the holidays first. No sense dragging him out right now. He’s obviously managing well enough on his own.”

When Dean and Sam came back out of the bathroom, Sam joined Amber on the couch while Dean went to get himself a beer, knowing that no one would mind. 

“Get Sam one too,” John replied, smiling, “Hell, bring me one too.”

“What?” Both boys gawked at the same time.

“Do you think I haven’t noticed? Nothing gets past me,” John smirked. 

Dean’s heart was pounding out of his chest.  _ What the Hell is Dad talking about? Does he know...about Cas? _

Dean dropped one of the beers and he was thankful that they were cans instead of bottles. 

“You and Amber are dating now, Sammy. Always thought it would be Dean, but I think he’s got his eyes elsewhere. Go ahead Dean, give your brother his first beer. He’s a man now. Soon enough he’ll be out hunting like a man. Give Amber one too, she’s definitely earned it.” 

Amber blushed a bit. She wasn’t usually shy by any means, but somehow her boyfriend’s dad openly admitting that he knew they’d fucked had her falling silent. She finally managed to regain her words, “It’s okay, sir. If my mom found out…” 

“And how do you think your mom would find out?” John cut her off, “Not from any of us. Go ahead. I insist.” 

Dean handed Dad a beer before passing one to Amber and Sam, before sitting next to his brother and opening his own. 

Dean had gotten his first beer a long time ago. He’d been younger than Sam, not even a teenager yet...but he couldn’t recall the exact age...too many beers since then. He and Dad had been on what Dad called ‘a successful hunt’, during which, John would never admit, but Dean had saved his ass from a particularly nasty ghoul that had taken on the form of John’s (then) hunting partner that it had just killed. Dean had run it through with silver. After that, Dean had helped build the pyre and burn the body. It was his first hunter’s funeral.

It wasn’t a pleasant memory. Crude as it was, Dean was glad that Sam’s first beer was for getting laid.

“What about you, Dean?” John asked, “You still playing the field or have you found a nice girl at that school of yours?”

“Dean has a girlfriend,” Sam came to the rescue quickly.

“She cute?” John asked.

Dean shrugged. He didn’t want to bring Cas here, even if it was a fictional version of him. He didn’t want to give Dad anything else to take away from him.

“I asked you a question, boy. You answer me when I speak to you,” Something dangerous flashed in John’s eyes with those words. 

“Yes, sir,” Dean said defeatedly, “She’s cute. I’d just rather focus on the hunt, sir.”

_ Keep Castiel away from this. Keep his smile and his blue eyes away from this hell. Away from you, Dad. Don’t talk about him. Not here. _

“Dean’s been doing better in school, too,” Amber said, proudly, glad to steer away from she and Sam.

Dean nodded. Dad didn’t care about that. He knew better. 

“So what’s she look like, Dean?” John continued, “Is your piece of ass the reason you haven’t been focusing on the hunt so far? That what’s been distracting you?”

Dean felt anger boiling inside him hearing Castiel referred to as a ‘piece of ass’. “I’m not distracted. I’m out of practice.”

“You can say that again, boy,” John laughed.

Dean didn’t think it was funny. He was done with these games, “I’m out of practice,” he continued, “Because you dropped us off in Sioux Falls, and barely leave money, let alone hunting instructions, sir. I had to find something to focus my energy on, since it was apparent you didn’t want me until you needed someone for bait.” The words spilled out faster than Dean could stop them.

John jumped up to his feet and Bobby joined him, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

“John, he didn’t mean it,” Bobby said softly. 

Amber and Sam both sat in utter shock.

“I did mean it,” Dean spat, not bothering to move, still sitting, unafraid. 

“I went out hunting the thing that killed your mother. The demon that destroyed our family. I made sure you were taken care of. I taught you how to hunt, It’s not my fault that you’re too lazy to fucking practice. It’s a damn good thing I brought you here as bait because right now you’re one shitty hunter. Too busy worrying about pussy and english papers. A lot of good that’s gonna do you when you’re brains are scattered on the pavement.” 

“ _ You  _ destroyed our family,” Dean shot back, “You think mom would be proud of what you’ve become? What you made us? You think she’d be fucking satisfied with you stopping in to see us once every few months to take us on a goddamn hunting trip? You’ve completely lost your…”

Even Bobby couldn’t hold John back. He launched at Dean, his fist connecting with his son’s face, before grabbing him up by the front of his shirt. He was used to getting talked back to by Sam, even tolerated it to a certain degree, but not from Dean. He knew better by now. He was the obedient one and he knew what topics to avoid. “Don’t you ever fucking talk about your mother like that again. Ever. Or I swear to God, I’ll give you something to complain about boy.” 

“What’s the matter, Dad?” Dean asked, cheek smarting, but his hands remaining at his sides. He wouldn’t show weakness. Not here. “Don’t like the truth? Gonna hit me again? Think she’ll like that any more than what you’ve already put us through?” Even as he spoke the dangerous words, he couldn’t meet John’s eyes. Years of holding back, pressure building, were spilling out now.

John grabbed Dean by the mouth, his fist raised ready to strike again, when Bobby pulled him back.

“That’s enough, John.”

“Fuck you, Bobby,” John spat, shrugging out of his grasp, “They’re my kids, not yours. I’ll say when it’s enough.” 

John wheeled back to Dean, grabbing his face in his hand once more and forcing him to look at him.

“I think your mother would be ashamed of you, boy. Seeing what you are. I think maybe I’ve been too lenient with you boys. Maybe I should take you back out on the road. Get your hunting skills sharp again. And I promise you, wherever I take you, you’ll never see that piece of ass of yours again. You can make damn sure of that.”

“Dad, no!” Sam piped up, “Please, sir.” 

Fear at the thought of never seeing Castiel again made Dean’s adrenaline pump harder, blood racing. At the same time, the anger ran rampant at the nerve that Dad had to even begin to say such stupid things about Castiel, and about his mother. Mom would be proud of him, right? Proud that he was trying...proud of him taking care of Sam, and...she’d like Castiel. It was dad that was wrong. Wasn’t it?

Dean looked to Bobby, who shook his head, asking Dean silently to end this.

Dean wouldn’t resort to begging. It wasn’t pretty, it wouldn’t help...it never did. Once Dad’s mind was made up, it was made up. Begging usually only made him more apt to do whatever it is he’d intended in the first place.

In the end, Dean stayed where he was, face forced to look ahead by John’s grasp, he remained completely silent.

“Come on, Dean,” John coaxed, “You’ve had plenty to say until now. Say something.”

Oh, there was still plenty left to say, and all of it was on the tip of Dean’s tongue. “I’m done, sir.” Nothing in this world was worth losing Cas, or forcing Sammy back into the life of a hunter.

“That’s what I thought boy,” John replied, grabbing his beer and heading out to the front porch. Bobby followed after, still trying to talk sense into his best friend.

“What are you thinking?” Amber hissed, in a hushed whisper, “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Dean shrugged off past her and Sam both, grabbing his coat and heading out the other door, to the back of the house to cool down, holding his cheek where it still stung. He tried so hard to love Dad...and he realized that not loving him wasn’t the problem...the problem was that he cared entirely too much.

 

* * *

 

Dean was stubborn enough that he didn’t come back in, even when his entire body felt like ice. He hugged his arms to himself, sitting on a dilapidated lawn chair on the patio facing the woods. He had his headphones over both his ears, blaring Green Day’s  _ Pulling Teeth _ .

His breath turned frosty in the chill of Ohio as he sang quietly-

 

_ I’m all busted up- _

_ Broken bones and nasty cuts… _

_ Accidents will happen, _

_ But this time I can’t get up. _

_ She comes to check on me, _

_ Making sure I’m on my knees… _

_ After all, she’s the one, _

_ Who put me in this state. _

_ Is she ultra violent? _

_ Is she disturbed? _

_ I better tell her I love her… _

_ Before she does it all over again. _

_ Oh God, she’s killing me.. _

_ For now I lie around… _

_ Hell, that’s all I can really do… _

 

He played the air-guitar along with Billy Joe Armstrong, having obviously left the real one at home. Funny how domestic violence songs could remind him so much of dad sometimes, but make him feel better...in that way, he was no different than a normal teenager, using music to get out the angsty feelings that Dad brought out in him.

Dean lost track of time listening to Green Day’s ‘Dookie’ album, which, although it was newer, wasn’t entirely bad. He was interrupted by the glass door of the patio sliding open. 

Dean let the headphones fall from his ears, and could hear that everyone else was back inside, talking, and Uncle Bobby was standing above him, “Come on, Dean. We’ve got work to do. We’re heading into town.”

Dean glanced up, glad to obey Uncle Bobby, who never asked too much of them. “Yeah, sure. What do I need to bring?” Leave it to Uncle Bobby to get him out of here when he needed it. Still, he worried that Sam might meet his fate. 

Glancing inside, he figured Dad must have had near a pack of beers by now, and would be sleeping them and the hunt off sooner, rather than later.

“Just get in the car, you idjit.” 

Dean nodded, following him around front where he ducked into one of Bobby’s old salvage clunkers, “Where are we going?”

“Into town. Need some supplies. What in the hell was that, anyway? I’ve heard Sam pop one off a couple times, but you?”

They drove down the gravel a little ways silently before Dean opened his mouth, “I didn’t mean for it to go that far.”

“Then why did it, Dean? Did you think you had something to prove? Think arguing with John Winchester would get you back to the Novak boy any faster?”

Dean’s eyes widened and he felt his heart sink into his chest“W-what?” Dean stammered, so much in shock at the blatant statement that he couldn’t mask the surprise in his voice.

“Don’t play dumb with me, you idjit. I’m not your dad. I know about the Novak boy.You should know by now that I hear everything that happens in Sioux Falls.”

Dean was quiet for a second, “Connie?”

Bobby shrugged his agreement.

Dean sighed. There was no use in hiding it, “And?” he asked, skeptically.

“And, what?” Bobby asked, “You’re acting like a damn fool out here trying to get yourself killed?”

“I’m not-” Dean started.

Bobby’s look hardened, “Look where you are, Dean. You’re in a van full of guns. That ain’t person behavior, son. You’re a hunter...that mean’s you’re whatever the job is today. At least while you’re here. I’m glad you’re happy, don’t get me wrong, Dean. I ain’t got qualms about you dating the Novak boy, maybe he’ll be good for the parts of you that’re stubborn like your daddy. But, if you go getting a case of the Anne Sexton’s, something’s gonna come up behind you and rip your fool head off. Now, you do whatever it takes to find your reason to get your head back in the game. I don’t care if it’s love, or spite, or a ten dollar bet. I’ve been to enough funerals. You get yourself killed before me, and I’ll kill you again, got it?”

Bobby thought about his own words for a minute, before sighing, “I think of you like my own son. You’re gonna be a better man than your daddy, Dean. I’ve seen enough to know that. But you need to learn when to keep your mouth shut, and you need to learn to keep whatever life you have out there...out there...or you won’t have a life at all. I talked to John. He’s not gonna move you boys out of Sioux Falls, not yet...but you’ve gotta help me out a little here in convincing him, son.”

“Sorry, Bobby. It’s hard when-”

“You think I don’t know that? You boys haven’t had any practice. Your dad’s been obsessed with that yellow eyed thing. Personally, I’d rather keep you both out of it, but if I have to bring you in- it’s gonna be to something I think you can handle. Don’t prove me wrong on this one, or it’ll be back to sneaking normal around the crazy.”

Dean smiled, remembering those old days of playing baseball with Bobby, or him and Sam going to the park, when they were supposed to be hunting, “I’ll try harder,” Dean agreed, “But not for dad.”

“Whatever it takes,” Bobby agreed, pulling the clunker into the small city morgue, “Think you can handle breaking and entering?”

Dean grew smug, smirking, “Come on now, Bobby, I never stopped being a badass. Dead man’s blood?”

“Dead man’s blood,” Bobby confirmed.

 

* * *

 

 

The morning was a new day, and started the same way all good mornings start- with pancakes. The savory aroma of bacon combined with the sweet scent of maple, and filled up the cabin as Dean cooked over the propane stove.

Pancakes were almost always the one thing Dean could find to cook up, no matter who’s cabin, shack or house they were staying in- so they’d become somewhat of a tradition. 

Turned out the hunter who owned this little cabin wasn’t actually bad at hunting animals, either, and had a freezer full of wrapped meat, including bacon. There’d also been butter, syrup and vanilla, so all in all, it was shaping up to be a good morning. He needed to work on redeeming himself with Dad, and couldn’t really think of a better way to start. Hangover food always helped his dad in the mornings. He knew that much from experience.

The entire cabin slept while Dean cooked, which wasn’t surprising. Usually the adrenaline of the hunt came out during the day, and had subsided by night- allowing what they called a ‘hunting high’, which normally resulted in a long nap once the hunting was done.

Dean was, as usual, the exception. Dad had always gotten on his case about how heavy he slept when they weren’t hunting...always told him a monster could come up and gut him before he opened his eyes. He made up for that during the actual hunt with his restlessness. He found it almost impossible to sleep- and it had nothing to do with Sam’s loud snoring from beside Amber on the pallet on the floor.

He was surprised his brother hadn’t woken up for the bacon yet, and figured he must have been pretty tired. He trusted that they were asleep enough that light singing wouldn’t bother them, and began to hum softly to the cassette playing in his ears, which was now Aerosmith.

When breakfast was finished, Dean set the little card table with cheap napkins and old silverware. He piled bacon and pancakes onto five separate paper plates, but before he could even get them all to the table, he ran into Sammy, quiet as a ninja. 

His little brother stretched, eyes half-closed, hair partially standing up. He rubbed his eyes before grabbing a piece of bacon without so much as a good morning.

Dean smacked his hand, which caused his brother to open his eyes, “Hey, get your hands off the bacon, brat.”

The only response he got was a grumble, as Sam chewed the rest of his triumph, and washed it down with orange juice, sitting at the table. 

“Not even gonna wake Amber up?”

“I’m up, Dean,” Amber murmured, still laying on the floor, “Kinda.”

Dean finished setting the table before beginning to rouse everyone else. He went to Dad first, the biggest pain in the ass in the morning. “Dad…” Dean whispered, gently shaking John’s shoulder and stepping away. He’d made the mistake of staying close a couple times and nearly gotten choked that way, “Breakfast. Big hunt today.”

John startled awake, swinging a couple punches before he realized where he was. He nodded, running fingers through his hair. “Go on. I’ll be down in a minute.” 

Dean nodded, leaving two pills and a can of beer on the nightstand. He didn’t waste words like ‘I’m sorry’. They meant nothing to John, who was a man of action. Instead, the best he could do was keep tradition. Every hunt they went on, or every time Dad had come home drunk, Dean had always been the one to nurse him back to health.

He went to Uncle Bobby’s room next, unsurprised to find him already awake, though he’d been up the latest. He knocked on the open door softly, “Made pancakes.”

“Thought I smelled something good,” Bobby grinned, “We’d better hurry before your brother leaves us empty handed.”

They stepped out into the hall the same time John did, beer in hand. They went down first, followed by John. Amber had gotten up and was sitting with Sam at the table, where she was fending Sam off from eating her bacon too after he’d already finished his own. 

“Morning Dad,” Sam said, taking a drink of orange juice, “Hey Uncle Bobby. Thanks for breakfast Dean. It’s really good.”

Amber nodded in agreeance with her mouth full. 

“Looks good, son,” Bobby agreed.

John sat down between Dean and Bobby, taking another swig of beer before starting in on the pancakes. He smiled, “Some things don’t get old.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, “But you should have made like three more packs of bacon.” 

“You’d have just ate everyone else’s then, too. Can’t hunt if you’re fat on bacon, brat,” Dean said, sitting down, and handing over half of his own bacon to Sam.

“I’m not fat. You’re fat, jerk,” Sam said, eating a piece of bacon gratefully, “Besides, I can be as fat as I want. I’m just here for the books.”

“Doesn’t mean you should let your guard down. Need to be prepared,” John cautioned, mouth full. No one ever said hunters had the best table manners. 

“Yeah I know, Dad,” Sam replied. 

“Something might jump out of the books at you,” Dean agreed, jokingly, mouth full of pancakes. 

“Ha. Ha. Dean,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. 

“Man, Dean, your pancakes are even better than my mom’s,” Amber praised. 

_ Not better than Cas’ mom’s. _ Dean thought. He missed waking up in the morning, nuzzled into his angel’s hair, a small puddle of drool on his chest, his body warm from the closeness between them. He missed Cas kissing him awake, nuzzling him, or coming up with more creative ways to wake him up. He missed the smell of breakfast at the Novak’s. 

Dean finished scarfing his food down first, rinsing the plate off, determined not to get on dad’s bad side today. It was just three days until Christmas now, and he wanted to make it home...really home. “I’ll go get the cars loaded. Enjoy breakfast.” Without a word, he went upstairs, gathering up the hunting gear, like the obedient little soldier he’d always been- not a word of what had happened last night, just a purple and red bruise under his eye.

 

* * *

 

 

John Winchester pulled up to another remote cabin deep in the woods. He’d gotten the location from one of the vamps they’d killed yesterday. The cabin was in a pretty bad state of disrepair. The roof badly needed reshingled, the paint was peeling, and the yard looked like it hadn’t been mowed in years. It was perfect for a vamp’s nest.

John popped open the trunk of the Impala and began dispensing weapons. 

“Alright, now listen,” John replied, taking a large machete for himself, “Dean, you’re with me. We’ll sweep around back, while Bobby and Amber come through the front. Nothing gets out. Kill them all. Got it?” 

“Yes, sir,” Dean agreed. Everyone else nodded.

John closed the trunk and they put the plan into action. John and Dean crept to the back and Bobby and Amber came through the front. The first thing that caught Dean off-guard was that the place wasn’t locked, or guarded.

The back door swung right open with a soft creak, and they entered the kitchen. The only thing running was a refrigerator, attached to which were a boy and girl that looked as though they had been fed on so many times that they had passed out. Dean noticed their chests shallowly raising and falling, breathing and still alive, but John motioned them forward.

The second thing that Dean found strange was how small the cabin was. It was smaller than their hunter’s cabin, he noticed as they met up with Bobby and Amber in the living room...too small for a nest so big. Skeptical, Dean followed John upstairs to check the bedrooms.

Nothing. The entire cabin was empty, not a vamp in sight. It was clear that they were using the place, maybe even holding out here- dinner chained to the fridge and all. Even though it was overcast, it was daylight outside...so why weren’t they here? Where had they gone? 

“Let’s go ahead and head back, John,” Bobby offered, “We’ll get another lead. Pick the trail back up again tomorrow. This doesn’t sit right with me.”

“We should get back and check on Sam,” Amber said with a frown. 

“Wait,” John replied before stepping back into the kitchen, “We don’t know if they’ve been infected.” The machete connected with the fridge...twice. 

It wasn’t hard to remember a day when Dean would have blindly followed John Winchester into the very depths of hell to please him if that was where their path took him. Now, he felt a little sick watching the heads roll to the ground. 

Either of those humans could have been Castiel, and Dean knew somewhere deep within himself that John would have offered no exception if it had been his boyfriend chained to the fridge, so weak he was unable to move. Less than a year ago, Dean would have swung the blade without hesitation for his dad if asked. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

“Dean,” John called, “Let’s go.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dean forced himself out of the cabin with the thought that the people in the cabin weren’t Cas...it was the only thing gluing his mouth shut from another argument. Arguing for the dead wouldn’t bring them back, and it wouldn’t bring Dean home, and the more he was out here, the more he realized...he desperately wanted to go home.

 

* * *

 

Sam hated hunts like this. He never got to see any action, rarely helped with first aid,  and he wasn’t really needed for research. He was just here, with no job, no purpose. Not to mention

bored. He was starting to have withdraws from being away from his Sega for too long. 

He laid on the couch, staring up at the ceiling fan. Wondering when they’d be back and what Dean would cook for lunch. He could cook, too, if they all wanted burnt sandwiches or undercooked burgers. 

“It’s about time, you guys,” Sam said sitting up as he heard the door handle jingle.

The door opened and Sam scrambled to try to grab a knife, anything. There were at least eight vamps smiling at him through the door. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” the first one said, entering with a smile. He had a few piercings and long hair pulled back in a ponytail. 

“He’s adorable,” a blonde girl said, circling around Sam, “Like a little puppy. I bet he’ll taste good.” 

“Stay the fuck back, you bastards!” Sam said, trying to steady the knife in his hands. 

“The puppy’s got teeth,” a redheaded girl laughed at him. 

“Not for long,” one of the guys smirked, before stepping up to Sam. He had a great number of tattoos and even more muscles beneath them. 

Sam took a few swings, even managed to cut his arm, but the vamp tackled him to the ground. The knife slipped from Sam’s grasp and he tried desperately to reach it. Another vamp kicked the blade away. The vamp on top of him wrapped his hands around Sam’s throat. 

“Stop,” the leader said, “He’s worth more alive than dead.”

The room had started to go dark from lack of oxygen, but Sam could make out the leader’s face. He had a few tattoos as well, a couple piercings, and a long scar across his face. The hands let go of his throat and Sam coughed and sputtered. 

“Go on,” the leader barked, “Tie him up to one of the kitchen chairs. They’ll be back for him sooner or later.” 

“Can we have a taste, until then?” the redhead purred, “We’re starving.” 

“No one eats until we’re finished here. Understood?” the leader snapped. 

The cabin fell silent in compliance. Muscles and Ponytail picked Sam up and began tying him to the chair. He struggled against the knots, glaring at his captures. 

“He’s an angry puppy,” the blonde girl laughed to the redhead. 

 

* * *

 

 

The vamps didn’t try to hide their presence. They’d parked right in John’s spot, next to Bobby’s car. John’s voice was calm when he spoke, but began to rise with emotion. 

“We all go in the front. If Sam’s alive, lay down your weapons. If not, no one gets out alive. Let’s move.” 

The word ‘if’ struck terror into Dean’s heart. There couldn’t be an  _ if  _ Sammy was alive...of course he was alive, he had to be. Dean was out of the car before John had even finished parking. Dad was faster, pushing Dean aside and kicking open the door.

With one kick the door spiraled off its hinges, knocking over one of the vamps that was guarding it. It wasn’t too difficult, with how old the cabin was, but still impressive. 

“Move, and the last thing you’ll see is that boy’s head leave his shoulders,” the Vamp Leader warned, as Muscles placed a blade to Sam’s throat.  

John nodded, and laid down his machete, but Dean was skeptical. That was his baby brother that they had bound up. Sam was his responsibility...the most precious thing in the world to him. “Dad…” Dean hesitated, slowly lowering his weapon according to John’s command earlier, his voice almost frantically pleading for John to do something. He wanted to trust him...but Sam’s life was at stake here.

Amber and Bobby both laid down their blades as well. There were tears forming in Amber’s eyes, and Bobby clenched his fists. 

“Pick them up Quinn,” the Leader gestured to the weapons on the floor. The blonde girl walked over and picked the knives up, setting them on the kitchen counter. 

“What do you want?” John demanded. 

“What I want is my men back,” the Leader said, walking over to John. He held a bat with a chain wrapped around it and nails sticking out. “Can you do that? Bring my children back to me? I didn’t think so. I should kill yours and be done with it. Starting with that pretty little girl of yours.” 

“Don’t you dare touch her,” Sam spat, the blade was so close that talking caused him to bleed a little. 

“I like him,” the Leader laughed, “Kid’s got balls. I think I might turn him instead. And let the first throat he rips out be yours.”

Dean’s vision clouded over to black. He felt the adrenaline pump into his heart as the world faded to wrath. He didn’t notice himself growl, he didn’t notice himself unsheath a dagger from the back of his belt. Dean Winchester wasn’t a man of words, especially in situations like this. He was a man of action. He didn’t want to reason with the bloodsuckers- they’d taken Sam, and that had sealed their fate. He lunged forward toward the leader.

The Leader snatched Dean up and nearly jerked his arm out of his socket to get the blade. He dropped the bat in the process. “You need to teach your son to know his place. It’ll wind up getting him killed one day. If I don’t decide to turn him first.” 

“He doesn’t listen to me,” John offered, “But he’s got a few good ideas.” 

John had noticed Dean sinking a syringe into the leader’s flesh, pumping his veins full of vamp poison- the blood that he and Bobby had gotten the night before.

John picked the bat up and connected with the leader’s skull so hard that a bit of his brain was showing. With the Leader down, the other vamps tried to make a run for it through the back door, but Bobby had locked the door with a chain from the outside. The blonde and the redhead screamed, holding each other and fighting to the back of the crowd. 

Bobby helped Dean up off the floor before grabbing up a machete and hacking away. Amber followed suit grabbing one of the blades off the floor and helping Bobby cut through the mass. John smashed Ponytail’s skull before taking a swing at Quinn.

Dean picked his knife back up off the floor where the leader had dropped it when his dad had started beating faces in. He used the knife to cut through the ropes binding Sam, rolling his eyes, “You had one job,” he teased, handing Sam a syringe full of dead man’s blood, “Didja really have to go and get captured, brat? Back me. Those vamps don’t need all those knives. You did say you’ve been dying for some action.” 

Sam gripped the syringe tight and followed Dean into the kitchen where all the chaos was. They were a little late to the party, most of the vamps were already taken down, but Sam grabbed one of the machetes off the counter. He stabbed the syringe into Muscle’s leg, a personal vendetta. The machete looked almost too big for Sam, and the guy certainly looked way too big for him, but Sam had never cared much about size. The vamp sank to his knees and Sam sent his head rolling. 

Just as John whipped around to get the last of them, the redhead, her head sank to the floor and Dean ducked, evading John’s bat narrowly. “Think that was all of them?” he asked, looking around at all the blood and severed heads, then at his family, making sure that each of them were okay.

“Looks like it,” John replied, “Good work, boys. You okay Sam?” 

“Yeah, Dad,” Sam nodded. 

“Let’s get ‘em outside,” Bobby suggested. 

Amber rushed Sam into a hug, kissing his cheek. 

“I said I’m fine,” Sam said softly, holding her in his arms. 

“Come on you two,” John said, gesturing to the bodies, “Pick a part, take it to the yard.”

As they began piling the pieces in the back yard, the phone in the cabin rang, and John picked it up hastily. His fingers wrapped eagerly around the cord of the phone. 

“I’ve got to go,” John replied, stepping back outside as his boys finished piling bodies on the dirt to burn, “Tonight.” 

Before anyone could protest or say a word, Dean opened his mouth. He knew what it was. It was the same thing it always was. There was a weird string of storms, or temperature changes, or reports of a man with yellow eyes. They never panned out, but this time, Dean welcomed his dad’s departure.“Whatever you need to do, Dad. We can finish up here.”

“You sure you can’t stay the night?” Bobby asked, “We can all head out in the morning.”

“It’s urgent Bobby, and not too far away. About a six hour drive,” John replied. 

“But, Dad…” Sam said, without thinking. 

“What is it, Sam?” John asked, gently enough, but still sounding in a bit of a hurry.

“It’s just...it’s Christmas, Dad,” Sam said quietly. 

“Oh, right,” John replied, running his fingers through his hair. He handed Dean a larger than normal stack of cash, “Buy your brother something nice. You too, Sam. I would have gotten you boys something, but the hunt was kinda of last minute. Merry Christmas boys.” 

John handed Sam a couple twenties, before heading back inside to pack. 

“To be honest,” Dean whispered to Sam as the screen door slammed shut, “I don’t know what you were expecting in the first place.”

 

* * *

 

 

Dean’s watch read 2:07 AM as the Impala pulled up in front of the Novak’s sleeping house on Christmas Eve. He’d dropped Sam and Amber off at home, and drove over the speed limit here. He knew Castiel would be asleep, but he couldn’t have waited until morning. 

He hadn’t had the opportunity to tell Castiel he was returning home, there hadn’t been payphones, and he’d shortened the fourteen hour drive to about twelve as it was.

When he slid open the window, and climbed into his loved one’s room, he couldn’t have been more relieved to find him safely tucked into bed, lightly snoring, clutching to the leather jacket.

Dean let his body warm up from the cold outside, passing the seconds by pulling salt from his backpack, and re-lining Castiel’s window with it. He’d get to the others, later, when no one was watching...for now, there was his angel to tend to.

Once his own body had warmed up a bit, he slipped gently beneath Cas’ warm covers, sliding his hand underneath his pillow to scoop him up into his arms, tugging the leather jacket gently away. 

When Cas was nestled safely in his embrace, he took a moment to breathe him in, the smell of shampoo, and of his own leather jacket...the smell of safety and home. He pressed his lips gently to Castiel’s head. 

Castiel groaned lightly, not yet fully awake, so Dean pulled him just a little closer, like he had on the first night he’d ever slept over, tracing his fingers gently up his sides. He couldn’t help the small touches, the warmth of their bodies reuniting. He settled down into bed, tired himself from the long drive, “I love you,” he whispered softly, “Never let anything happen to you.”

“Dean?” Castiel said sleepily, rubbing his eyes, “I didn’t think you were going to make it back.” His lips found Dean’s in the dark, snuggling closer and tangling their legs together.

“Shh, baby,” Dean soothed gently, running his fingers softly through Castiel’s hair, kissing him gently in reply. He was so innocent to the world, not even a bad thought of who could be climbing into bed with him in the middle of the night, “Go back to sleep, I’m here now. I’ve got you...I’m not going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songlist for Chapter Six:
> 
> Amazed- Lonestar  
> Pulling Teeth- Green Day  
> (Also various Zeppelin, and Aerosmith)
> 
> Note from Author:  
> Do I have any Walking Dead fans that noticed something make an appearance this chapter?  
> Anyway, I'm sorry about John, we all know he's kind of a jerk...the next chapter brings our two lovebirds back together.  
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter, loves. Take care, Happy Holidays.  
> ~Lilit
> 
> PS: Question- would any of you be interested in little shorts as side-stories to this? (Dean and Cas at Prom, for example?)


	7. Any Way You Want It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, Dean Winchester!
> 
> Back in time for the holidays, the Novaks show the Winchester boys what it means to have a real Christmas. Castiel has other ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings for this Chapter**: Heavy Sexual Content
> 
> Merry Christmas! Or happy holidays (whichever you celebrate) <3  
> I hope that your winter season is full of warm fuzzies and goodness (and maybe if you've been good- presents too).  
> This chapter brings us back to Dean and Castiel (and Sammy, too), celebrating Christmas. So, lots of fluff. And maybe a good bit of smut, too. Hey, it's Christmas- everyone deserves some smutty Christmas writing. ;)  
> Anyway, taking a little bit of a break to catch up on some adulting, so expect the next chapter sometime in January unless the muses are good to me. Don't worry, haven't stopped writing at all. <3  
> Enjoy the chapter, and enjoy the rest of your 2016.  
> Take care my lovely friends, and thank you for continuing to comment and enjoy this work, it's been an incredible gift to me this year.
> 
> Lots of love.

* * *

* * *

 

_ December 24, 1998 (Actually Morning, now.) _

 

Castiel woke up alone, and cold. The other side of his bed was vacant, save for the pillow, where he was lying in a puddle of his own drool. He sat up, wiping the side of his mouth, trying to gather his thoughts and make sense of his surroundings.

He stumbled his way to the bathroom.  _ Dean came home last night. It wasn’t a dream...right?  _ A dream would be too cruel a punishment. It was all he’d been wishing for, since Dean left. He grabbed his glasses as he came back out of the bathroom, stretching before going downstairs to investigate.

He was greeted with a strange combination of Christmas music playing loudly from the kitchen, and the Nintendo 64 blaring Mario Kart, as his dad stood up from the couch in disbelief, “Where’d you get that red shell from?”

Sam sat on the other side of the couch, looking smug, “Been saving it for you, Chuck,” he snickered, “Didn’t really think I’d just give you first place, did ya?”

“All I keep getting are bananas,” Chuck said defeatedly.

“Hey Sam,” Castiel said groggily, his heart starting to beat fast, nervously.  _ If Sam’s here…  _ “Where’s…”

“He’s in the kitchen,” Sam said, without his gaze moving from the TV, where his lead on Chuck was growing, “Good to see you too,” he teased, jumping up off the couch as he crossed the finish line and a big rainbow number one flashed on his half of the screen. Castiel was out of the room before Sam could even announce his victory. 

He slid into the kitchen, his heart pounding out of his chest, breath escaping him when he saw Dean in the light.

It had only been a couple of weeks, but he’d changed. He looked a little taller. His hair was still messy from sleep, falling over his eyebrows a little where it had grown. He was wearing his classic jeans, but only a long sleeve gray shirt this morning with no additional layers. He looked happy and normal, instead of worried and serious in spite of the prominent bruise under his left eye.

_ My poor sweetheart. I wonder what happened to his eye. Did his Dad hit him? Or maybe it was his Uncle. Or maybe him and Sam got into a fight. Or something worse. I wonder how bad it hurts.  _

Castiel tried to take his mind off the bruise, and couldn’t help but smile as Dean danced around the kitchen with his mom to _Jingle Bell Rock_. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Novak,” Dean laughed as he stepped gently on her toes.

She just laughed with him, and continued dancing, checking the pancakes, bacon and ham sizzling on the griddle every few dance moves. “It’s okay, Dean, you’re getting better sweetheart,” she smiled.

Castiel couldn’t stop staring at them in wonder. “Definitely feels like Christmas around here now,” he said with a smile, in the doorway. It really did. The hole in his heart had been filled the moment he’d seen Dean was back. There wouldn’t have been a Christmas without Dean. Not for him. 

“Good morning, Castiel,” Mrs. Novak said, smiling and pulling away from Dean, who turned around instantly, breaking into a smile.

Before Castiel could really think further, he was lifted up into Dean’s arms, held protectively, lovingly. Then, Dean’s lips were pressed against his. It was a sweet kiss, nothing more than innocent, but it lingered even after they pulled apart.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Dean said, smirking as he put Castiel down, pointing above them at the mistletoe, like it had been as good an excuse as any.

“Dean…” Castiel said, breathlessly, blushing profusely. He felt awkward kissing in front of his parents, but it wasn’t enough to wedge him out of the embrace that Dean still held him in.

“Hey, why didn’t you wake me up when you got up?” he whispered, not wanting his mom to know that Dean had snuck in last night

“You looked too cute, and you were snoring,” Dean teased gently, “Besides, you’re grumpy if you wake up without breakfast,” he ran his fingers gingerly through Castiel’s messy hair, brushing it away from his eyes.

“I’m not grumpy…” Castiel frowned, knowing he really had no argument, “I just...really like breakfast, that’s all.” He shrugged.

“No arguments here,” Dean said, innocently putting his hands up, “Sam’s the same way. You guys are like pancake zombies,” he tickled Castiel, needing to see him smile.

“Bacon zombies,” Sam corrected walking in with the smirk of victory. 

“Yeah,” Castiel grinned at them both, “Definitely bacon zombies.” 

“Come on boys,” Mrs. Novak smiled as she finished setting plates down on the table, “Chuck, dear, breakfast.” 

“I’m with you kids,” Chuck said, mock-running past Sam, Dean and Castiel, “The bacon’s all mine.”

“Oh my god, dad, you’re such a loser…” Anna said, walking past them and sitting down at the table, fully dressed for the day

Once everyone was seated, they closed their eyes to say grace, a habit Mrs. Novak insisted upon. Dean smiled at Castiel, both with their eyes open, as he held his hand beneath the table, as Sam rolled his eyes from the other side, sneaking a piece of bacon as Dean shot him the look that blatantly said,  _ Sam, knock it off _ .

After ‘amen’, the bacon was fair game. Mrs. Novak and Anna sat back as the boys squabbled over it until the plate was left with just a small puddle of bacon grease. Chuck looked a little disappointed at the glare his wife was giving him, so he held out a piece of bacon to her, with his mouth full. She couldn’t help but laugh and decline.

After breakfast, Mrs. Novak let them all have a little space to let their stomachs settle. Sam retreated back to the N-64, putting in the Pokemon Stadium game that Castiel had gotten on Thanksgiving. Chuck sat back with a morning newspaper, still slighted that he’d lost to Sam in both the Mario Kart battle and the Battle of the Bacon.

Anna went back to her room, and Castiel and Dean followed upstairs, Dean nearly being dragged by his loved one. Castiel wanted to kiss him, to touch him, but first the words that spilled out of him were the ones that he’d been barely able to contain all morning. 

“Baby, what happened to your eye?”Castiel asked. 

It was a lie that Dean had practiced with Sam until he’d come up with one that was convincing enough.

_ “So, what are you gonna tell him? You know he’s gonna ask.” _

_ “What?” _

_ “About your eye…”  _ Sam had said on the road back, while Amber snoozed on him in the back seat.

_ “Hunting accident.” _

_ “Good one. Think he’s gonna be okay with you hunting after that? You know dad’ll make you anyway.” _

_ “Well, I can’t just tell him dad and I got into it.” _

_ “It wouldn’t surprise him once he’s met Dad.” _

Dean’s hands had tightened on the steering wheel, his voice growing darker,  _ “He’s not going to meet Dad.” _

_ “Yeah he will, Dean. If he sticks around long enough. Besides, Dad’s not that bad unless he’s been drinking...I mean, he’s still a dick, but.”  _ Sam had shrugged,  _ “Hey, I got it...just tell him it was a…” _

 

“Bar fight,” Dean shrugged casually, using Sam’s suggestion. I mean, it wasn’t entirely unbelievable that  _ Dean Winchester _ would fight someone outside of a bar that was twice his size, and it was less of a blow to his ego than saying that he stood there like an obedient little soldier as Dad slugged away on him,

His arms snaked around Castiel, as he began backing him up towards the bed. It was somewhat of a distraction. Dean didn’t like talking about fighting, or hunting, least of all when he was with Castiel, and everything was supposed to be fine.

“A bar fight?” Castiel repeated, both unamused and concerned, “But, Dean, you’re not even old enough to be in a bar.”

True. But, it didn’t mean that he  _ hadn’t  _ been in a bar...several times, with fake IDs or just standing outside waiting to drive Dad home. He knew roadhouses and bars better than someone twice his age.

“I wasn’t  _ in  _ the bar, Cas,” Dean said, “I was waiting outside. Dad and Uncle Bobby usually go for drinks after the hunt. Some drunken douchebag came out and insulted my mother...so we fought.” It wasn’t entirely far from the truth, “C’mon babe, I’ve had worse.”

“Dean,” Castiel protested, still worried, but unable to push Dean away as he kissed Cas’ neck. The next time, it came out a sigh, “ _ Dean. _ We can’t…” he said, falling back onto the bed, “Everyone’s still awake...Sam could come in…”

Nonetheless, Castiel pulled Dean down with him. 

Dean hadn’t expected that, and hissed as Cas pressed into the cut the vamp had left on his side. He played it off as best as he could, grinning, “No idea what you’re talking about, I only have the best of intentions…”

When he looked back at Castiel, Cas wasn’t smiling. “Dean, let me see,” he demanded.

“It’s nothing to worry about, Cas,” Dean insisted, upset with himself for giving it away, and also a little taken aback at how adamant Castiel had sounded. 

“Dean,” Castiel repeated as Dean tried to squirm away from his grasp, “Let me-” he forced Dean’s shirt up, revealing the bandage that Sam had put over the wound “...see. Dean. God, baby...you’re hurt! What happened?”

Dean wasn’t used to this kind of attention by any means when it came to battle wounds, especially ones that were so minor. He was almost proud of it, actually, if not still just a little apprehensive about being hurt at all. Usually, with hunting slipups, there were stitches, or at the very least, a more severe wound to be worried about. With five hunters and a nest full of vamps, one scratch definitely wasn’t something to complain about.

“It’s just a scratch, Cas. It didn’t even need stitches.” Just a bandage and a little antiseptic had done just fine.

“What the hell did that guy do to you? Shank you? We’re going to the police,” Castiel said, trying to pull Dean up, “You can file charges and get that maniac locked away.”

“Cas…” Dean said, still surprised at how much this meant to him, “This one was a hunting accident. Sam got me on accident when he was goofing off with the hunting knife, and like I said, it’s just a scratch.” He tried to wiggle away, but Castiel was holding his own.

“At least let me see it,” Castiel said defiantly, crossing his arms, still concerned.

“Fine,” Dean grumbled, rolling onto his side.

Castiel grimaced as he peeled the bandage off. Dean was right… the laceration wasn’t deep, not enough for stitches… but it was big, and looked like it was getting a bit infected. Castiel’s heart sank, and he wanted to cry. He’d been so worried about Dean getting hurt...and if the wound had been just a couple inches over, and had gone through, a lung could have been punctured. Dean could have been gone...all because of a hunting trip.

“How…” Castiel’s voice came out meek, on the verge of the tears he was holding back, “How long has it been since you changed the bandage? It really needs to be cleaned. I can do it, if you want, Dean. I need the practice.”

Dean knew the crackle in Castiel’s voice... he’d nearly made his loved one cry. He felt shame all over again for letting himself get hurt. He nodded, “All right.”

Castiel left for a few moments, returning with a new bandage, peroxide, cotton balls, and some triple antibiotic ointment.

“It’s gonna sting a little, Dean,” Castiel warned, prepping the peroxide on the cotton balls, “One, two…” he pressed the ball to Dean’s skin before getting to ‘three’, but Dean didn’t even flinch.

They stayed in an unsettling silence for moments as Castiel cleaned the wound and dressed it again. 

Dean never liked the silence, it meant there was a wall being built between them, something they couldn’t communicate. He had enough walls around him. “Hey there, nurse,” he said quietly, “You’re pretty cute, mind if I get your number?” He attempted to break the iciness between the two of them with a joke, typical Dean Winchester.

The look he got back was colder. Castiel’s eyes, though sternly fixed on what they were doing, were slowly filling with tears, “Dean, this is serious. You could have really gotten hurt.”

“Cas...I’m not going anywhere,” he reassured.

The dam broke, and Castiel began crying, still angry, “Are you sure about that?” he asked, before he could stop himself, “I’m not convinced. Look at these other scars, Dean. Some of them are pretty serious. Are they all from hunting? Don’t you think you should stop before you…”

Dean didn’t let him finish, pulling him tightly into his arms, even as Castiel pushed back against him weakly before succumbing into his embrace and letting the tears run their course down his cheeks.

Dean was silent as he held Castiel to his chest for what seemed like long minutes, before he pressed his lips tenderly to the top of his angel’s head, “I’m not going anywhere…”  _ But, I can’t stop hunting. It’s what I am, Cas...it’s what I do. It’s who I’ll always be. And, if for nothing else, I’ll do it for you. I’ll protect you. I’d take a bullet for you. To keep you and your family safe. I’ll never be good enough for you, Cas. Ever. But if I can do this one thing and protect you, I will do it, no matter the cost. _

He ran his fingers gently through Castiel’s hair, “I’m sorry I worried you.”

His response was teardrops, soaking through his shirt, and Castiel’s arms wrapping tightly around him, careful to avoid the newly-bandaged wound.

Dean’s fingers traced up his loved one’s cheek, wiping the hot droplets from his eyes, “Please don’t cry, sunshine. I’m home, I’m here with you. I’m not going anywhere. Smile for me, Cas,” he tilted his chin up, kissing him and wiping more tears away, not caring if they made a mess of him.

“Just kiss me,” Castiel said when they broke away. Dean was right. He was home, and now he was safe. It was the first hunting trip Dean had been on since they’d been together...so it would probably be awhile before the next one...now it was over, and they could get their happiness back. So, Castiel tried his hardest to dry his tears and smile as Dean kissed him again and again, and was forced to do so when Dean began to tickle him.

Dean always knew how to make him smile, genuinely, and he nearly fell off the bed squirming and giggling, “Dean, stop! Stopppp! I give up!!!”

Dean pulled Castiel back up on the bed, smiling down on him, “So, what’s my prize, beautiful?”

“I guess you’ll have to figure that out tonight,” Castiel hinted. He’d known for awhile that tonight was going to be the night that he finally went all the way with Dean. He’d been practicing, working himself up to it.

Dean had laughed the first time Castiel said he’d been practicing.

_ “Practicing with what, Cas?” Dean had grinned.  _

_ “My...fingers…” he had admitted, a bit embarrassed, “You said that’s how people start.” _

_ “Start,” Dean agreed, before pressing Castiel’s hand to his cock, “But, I’m a lot bigger than your fingers.”  _

_ Castiel went even more red.  _

_ “Tell you what,” Dean had offered, pulling his hand back up and kissing it, “I’ll bring you something to practice with.” _

It was the next day that Dean had given Castiel a set of anal toys. Castiel didn’t question where he had gotten them, either. There had been a small one to start out with, a medium one, and a larger one that still wasn’t as big as Dean. 

Castiel had nearly died of embarrassment right then and there, but now he was glad that he’d been practicing. He was less nervous for tonight. It had taken awhile to work up to the bigger ones, and they’d both hurt at first, so he knew it would be the same with Dean. But then, they’d started to feel really good, and so would he. 

“Oh, I see,” Dean teased, running his fingers over Castiel’s hips before dragging him closer, “Are you gonna be my Christmas present, Cas?” he kissed his neck, his breath warm on Castiel’s ear, “Wrapped up for me with a pretty bow?”

Dean missed this, and it was all he could do not to take it further right now. They hadn’t touched in weeks, and now that they were, it felt like he was coming to life again. They’d been inseparable, physically and emotionally until Dean had been dragged away.

Dean hadn’t exactly been happy with the sleeping arrangements on the hunt, either. Dad and Uncle Bobby had taken the two bedrooms upstairs, leaving Sam, Amber and himself like they always did- to share a room, or a floor. Amber and Sam hadn’t really cared and just waited until they thought Dean was asleep to fool around- but Dean couldn’t get any space for his own personal needs with there being one bathroom for five people- hell, he was lucky to get hot shower water for five minutes in the morning.

Castiel’s lips closed around Dean’s earlobe, and he whispered, “Something like that.”

“We don’t have to wait,” Dean tried, already feeling friction in his jeans, “We could be qui-”

Castiel laughed as Mrs. Novak cut him off, calling upstairs, “Anna, Castiel, Dean, come on downstairs, we’re going out for a little bit.”

“Be right down, mom,” Castiel called, before palming at Dean through his jeans, “...later.”

 

* * *

 

‘Later’ seemed to take forever.

First, they’d gone sledding in the park, on a real sled for what was the first time for both Sam and Dean.

Dean had used to take Sammy faux-sledding in whatever they could find, wherever they were staying. Dean smiled as he watched Sam go sliding down the hill in a real sled, his hair blowing back, a smile on his face. He wondered if he, too, was remembering the thousands of times they’d gone down that big hill in Indiana in the laundry basket while dad had been on a hunt. They’d stayed out until Sam’s teeth were chattering and he was forming snot icicles on his nose.

After sledding, they’d built a snowman family, with Chuck supplying carrots, even making a ‘snow bitch’ for Anna, who wasn’t present, choosing to spend the day with one of her friends.

After the snowmen, they returned home, Mrs. Novak began preparing for the following day’s Christmas feast.  She brought them all hot chocolate while they waited. Chuck let them watch ‘Nightmare Before Christmas’ since it was just the four of them, and Castiel hummed along with the songs.

When Mrs. Novak returned to the living room, Anna had come back and was looking bored, curled up in the chair while they finished up the movie. Dean was surprised to hear her singing along with her mom during the next movie  _ White Christmas _ . For once, it seemed like Anna actually belonged to the family.

Afterwards, Mrs. Novak allowed them one present each, a Christmas Eve tradition. All of the presents were in the same sized box, and inside were warm, flannel pajamas. She explained to Sam and Dean that going out to view the lights downtown in pajamas was something they always did as a family. Dean felt a little weird in pajamas, since he never wore them, but kept up with the festivities.

After they drove around downtown,  _ oohing _ and  _ ahhing _ at the lights, they returned home, and Chuck lit the Yule Log, and there were cookies, and treats, but no pie. Dean was assured that tomorrow’s festivities included plenty of his favorite dessert.

It was nearly midnight when the Novak house finally started to go to bed. Mr. and Mrs. Novak set up the couch for Sam with comfy pillows and blankets by the fire and tree, “No peeking,” Mrs. Novak warned.

They sent Anna, Cas and Dean off to bed with a warning of not staying up too late, before going to bed themselves. 

After partaking in all the family traditions, it was a relief for Dean to shut Castiel’s bedroom door behind him, not even getting to the bed before wrapping an arm around his boyfriend’s waist and kissing him.

Castiel’s arms wrapped around Dean’s neck. This kiss was different than the kiss from earlier. This kiss knew what was coming, what to expect, and Castiel met it as eagerly as Dean, pushing him back up against his wall, causing a soft  _ thump _ as he did so, and Dean turned out the light, leaving them in darkness.

Dean’s hair was already messy, and his lips already swelling from kisses and love-bites by the time Castiel ended up on top of him in bed, panting and moaning, eager for closeness, for touch and feel, “Dean,” Castiel managed, arching his hips against Dean’s, both of them hard, and ready, “Close your eyes, I want to give you your present.”

“ _ Now? _ ” Dean asked incredulously, whimpering as he rutted against Castiel impatiently, “Can’t it...after?” 

Dean could see Castiel’s eyes sparkle with mischief even in the dark, “Close your eyes, Dean.”

“Cas…”

“Close your eyes, Dean,” Castiel repeated, kissing Dean one more time before climbing off of him, leaving Dean straining against the fabric of his pajama pants.

He heard Castiel moving through the room, his hunter instincts telling him where he was even with his eyes closed. They were still closed a few minutes later when Cas’ CD player began playing something he recognized: 

 

_ Any way you want it, _

_ That’s the way you need it… _

_ Any way you want it. _

 

Dean’s eyes flew open.

Castiel had lit several candles around the room, enough that Dean could see he had changed clothes- out of the flannel pajamas and into a pair of jeans, ripped at the knees, a t-shirt that looked like it might actually be Dean’s, complete with the leather jacket.

Dean felt his heart hammer in his chest, his pupils dilating instantly, his mouth going dry. Castiel Novak was sexy in his cargo pants and sweaters, with his glasses, or staring at the ground. Castiel Novak looking like a badass, full of confidence and dripping sex appeal was something else entirely, and it had Dean straining against his pants again in seconds.

Castiel swayed his hips, dancing a little to the song before walking over to Dean and straddling his lap, pushing him down off of his elbows, flat on his back.

Castiel didn’t wear jeans often. They fit tightly to his legs, and the perfect curve of his ass, and Dean couldn’t help grabbing at it, making a low sound that sounded like a growl. 

Cas didn’t have the gravel of a rock singer in his voice, but the words were enough to make Dean grow hotter and harder as his baby grinded his hips against him and sang, running his hands along his shirt, careful to show Dean just a little bit of skin on his stomach…

 

_ I was alone, _

_ I never knew, _

_ What good love could do… _

 

The jacket came off, falling to the floor, Castiel looking straight into Dean’s eyes, biting his own lip innocently, even though Dean could tell that this was anything but innocent.

 

_ Oooh, then we touched, _

 

Castiel ran his fingers up Dean’s abdomen, pulling his shirt up and off with him.

 

_ Then we sang… _

_ About the lovin’ things… _

 

Dean sat there silently, unable to move, unable to breathe at the sight before him. It was every one of his fantasies coming true at once. He was reminded about the night Castiel had been drunk, dancing to that dirty rap song on top of him. This was classic rock.

Dean always got off to classic rock.

And now, here was the subject of his fantasies, about to blow his mind, dressed up for him, hard for him, getting naked for him, _ knowing _ what it was doing to him…

As Castiel pulled his shirt off, he grabbed Dean’s hand, letting him touch him, taking his hand all the way to the base of his jeans before letting go. Dean groaned.

 

_ Any way you want it, _

_ That’s the way you need it, _

_ Any way you want it… _

 

“Baby…” Dean begged as the song finally ended, pressing against Castiel.

Cas leaned down, his skin already hot and sticky against Dean’s from dancing. He whispered in Dean’s ear, “I’ve been practicing for you,” he said, handing Dean the Astroglide from Dean’s football bag that he’d placed on the end table.

He slid off of Dean, holding his gaze as he slid down Dean’s pajama bottoms and boxers all in one go, kneeling and kissing his cock, licking up the glistening precome at the head. He realized that Dean’s legs were shaking, and his gaze was trained on Cas, unwavering, in amazement.

Castiel tried to keep his confidence, even as he realized that Dean was still a good bit bigger than the plug that had given him so much pleasure while he’d been fantasizing about this moment. He stood up, unzipping the jeans, bending over all the way as he pulled them down to his ankles before pulling them off.

It was as awkward as it was sexy, Castiel realized, looking back at Dean. It had been weeks since they’d been a part of each other, since they’d had this part of the other, and somehow it felt almost like the first time again.

Regardless, Castiel wanted this moment to be perfect. He realized his tented up boxer-briefs left very little to the imagination, and tossed them aside as well before climbing back on top of Dean, who was being uncharacteristically quiet.

They both knew where this was going, and nervousness passed between them both through soft sighs and reacquainting touches. Dean’s hands knew from memory where to touch Castiel, and it wasn’t long until both of their stomachs were wet, and sticking from the other’s precome, aching for more.

Dean left little marks on Castiel’s skin- his collarbones and chest, where his mom wouldn’t find them, and Castiel gave Dean the beautiful sounds he hadn’t heard in so long.

Their legs were tangled, and the air was heavy, sheets crumpled from their shifting bodies before Dean finally pulled away from Castiel, “Are you sure you’re ready?”

Castiel nodded against the crook of Dean’s neck, where he rest, sweaty and nervous and shaking. He was the one who grabbed the lube from half underneath Dean’s leg and smoothed it onto his cock in long strokes that were already driving Dean crazy, his head falling back in the pillows, his eyes shut in perfect ecstasy. Castiel knew that neither of them were going to last long.

He spread the lube generously on himself, moaning a bit as his finger slid just a little inside...he’d grown to love the feeling rather quickly, and needed more.

Dean moved to turn Castiel over onto his back, but Cas stopped him, “I want to be on top,” he said softly. It was what Dean had told him he’d fantasized about that night where they’d let everything spill but their own feelings.

There was a lot of pressure as Castiel slowly eased himself on top of Dean, and it hurt, like he knew it would, once the head of Dean’s cock was inside him. He was so warm, and so hard.

“Fuck,” Dean breathed, clutching into the bed, his legs still quaking. 

“God, baby, you’re so big,” Castiel groaned. It still hurt a good bit, his body moving to try and get adjusted. He took his time, taking Dean slowly, inch by inch until he bottomed out. He didn’t move for awhile, whimpering before he finally began to move, each thrust bringing more pleasure than the last.

Dean was patient with him, tracing his fingers over his loved one’s hips, letting him take all the time he needed. He realized early on that Castiel was having trouble focusing on movement and controlling the pain and pleasure.

Dean sat up, catching Castiel’s eyes, going a little deeper in the process, which made Castiel cry out.

Dean kissed Castiel’s lips, locking onto them before resting his hand on Cas’ back, balancing the slow thrusts. Castiel began to pant against Dean’s mouth as their tongues met the pace of their bodies. His hand wrapped around Castiel’s cock, beginning to pump, causing Castiel’s breath to hitch in his throat.

“Dean...oh...oh my god, Dean…” Castiel said, shaking as he tried and failed to move his hips, his body not cooperating with the pleasure being given to him. He felt his body heating up, stiffening.

“I love you, baby, I’ve got you,” Dean assured, struggling with words himself, “It’s okay…”.

When Dean flipped him onto his back, he bottomed out and Castiel moaned so loudly he had to cover his own mouth. Each thrust after rubbed against that same spot, and Castiel had to cling onto Dean to keep his body from jumping off the bed. His short nails dug into Dean’s skin, clawing at him for some sort of balance.

Dean’s pace quickened after that, Cas’ body more pliant and relaxed, but still so tight around him. Now, there was nothing to think about other than pleasure and how snug his cock felt, buried inside of Castiel. He caught onto the headboard of the bed, using it to keep his thrusts as he lost himself more and more to pleasure, the rhythm of his hand on Castiel’s soaking cock faltering. His ears were ringing, his head spinning. “Cas...I’m…”

“Me too,” Castiel moaned, clinging tighter onto Dean, his chest heaving. He was so hot, everything was hazy, and perfect, and just on the edge of pleasure.  “I want to feel you come inside me, Dean.” 

“Make a mess of me, baby,” Dean said, arm shaking on the headboard where he was just barely hanging on now, “Want to feel you on my skin…”

The thought alone sent Dean over before he’d given Castiel time to react. He felt his body release, flooding come inside his beautiful lover, burying his face in Castiel’s shoulder to keep quiet, unable to stop the moans and sighs of pleasure, as each thrust became wet, and slick as he pushed his way through his orgasm, worshipping his angel beneath him as he groaned out, “Castiel…fuck...fuck…”

“Dean...are you...oh god...Dean...Dean!!” Castiel moaned loudly, his entire body contracting, shooting come up Dean’s stomach and chest as soon as he realized what was happening. 

He clung to Dean as the waves of pleasure rocked through him, and after, he stayed still, aside from his shaking body as Dean rolled to his side. Even now, he could feel small shots of pain, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure. It had to be Dean that had given him this moment...it always had to be Dean, even before they met...it couldn’t have been like this with anyone else.

He was perfectly content, as he always seemed to be with Dean, continuing to run his fingers along his side, worrying about the cut again. 

Dean kissed Castiel’s forehead, pushing sweaty strands of hair away before he pulled Castiel closer, slipping out of him in the process of cuddling him. He knew that they were a mess, but couldn’t give up the moment for anything in the entire world.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, running his fingers through Castiel’s messy hair.

“Y...yeah,” Castiel shivered, feeling empty without Dean, and sticky, and able to feel Dean’s come slipping down the crack of his ass. It was still almost too much, “I like it. I like it a lot, actually,” Castiel said, blushing as he nuzzled into Dean’s chest. 

Dean was silent another few moments, “You know how much I love you, right?”   _ You’ve given me more than anyone’s ever given me. Your heart, your body...you’ve shared it all with me. What could I possibly do for you- to deserve you? _

Castiel smiled, surprised at how tired the exertion had made him. His fingers curled against Dean’s chest, against his heart, “I know. I love you too...so much, Dean.”

Dean rolled himself to where he was hovering above Cas again, and without another word, kissed him.

Castiel’s arms flew up around Dean’s neck, melting completely. When they pulled away, he couldn’t help but tease Dean, whose arms were still shaking to support himself, “So, you liked it too, then?”

He was met with a kiss against his neck, and a groan of approval.

“Is that a yes?” Castiel laughed.

“Dunno how the hell I’m gonna top that for a Christmas present,” Dean murmured into Castiel’s neck, nuzzling there contentedly.

“You do know that that wasn't your only Christmas present, right? I mean I did get you an actual present, with a real bow and everything. I'm sure I'll love whatever you got me. Although, I will say I liked you being on top better.” He smiled, trailing kisses down Dean's chest.  

“Baby.  _ Cas, _ ” Dean groaned pulling Castiel back up to him and rocking his hips up, before whispering against his ear, “C’mon... _ shower. _ ”

“To... together? Right now? We can't, Dean. What if someone finds us?” Castiel asked, terrified.  _ If my parents caught us, I would die and Christmas would be ruined. I'd never see Dean again.  _

“You think Santa’s some sort of pervert? C’mon, babe, everyone’s asleep. Want to take care of you, wanna spoil you,” Dean coaxed, kissing Castiel again, teeth grazing his bottom lip. 

“Dean...I...we can't. We could get in trouble. I don't want your Christmas to be ruined.” Castiel replied, sighing softly into Dean's kiss. 

“Then we’ll just have to be quiet,” Dean grinned, recognizing the tell-tale signs of Castiel beginning to give in...he always did, especially at school. It always started as a no; but, all of his loved one’s ‘no’ responses quickly turned to ‘yes’. 

He stood up, pulling away from Castiel with a bit of effort, before dragging him back into his arms and lifting him up, bridal style, grinning like a dork the entire time.

“Oh God!” Castiel cried out in surprise, before wrapping his arms tight around Dean's neck. It'd been so long since someone had been able to lift him up like this. He was terrified Dean might drop him or hurt himself. “Wow, you really are strong.”  

“Shh,” Dean laughed, kissing Castiel’s lips to quiet him, “I’m not going to drop you. I’ve got you.” He started moving towards the joint bathroom between Castiel and Anna’s rooms.

“We have to be really, really quiet,” Castiel whispered, caving in as Dean kissed him again, and again, until the shower turned on, and the bathroom door closed behind them. 

 

* * *

 

 

“Dean! Deeeannn!” Sam whispered loudly, shaking Dean like crazy. “Wake upppp. It’s Christmas!!!”

Dean grumbled, rolling to his side and snuggling back into Castiel. He wasn’t sure what time the two of them had actually ended up falling asleep, but, judging that Cas’ hair was still damp, and his own body aching, it couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours prior. “Go away, Sam,” he growled into Cas’ shoulder.

“Eww, are you guys naked under there?” Sam blurted out.

Dean had to think about it a few moments, before realizing that both of them were, in fact, entangled and completely naked under Castiel’s comforter. He didn’t want to think, not this early. “Go away, Sam,” he repeated.

“Sam,” Castiel mumbled sleepily, before jolting awake and pulling the covers up, groaning a little at the surprise of how sore he actually was. “Sam...I...umm…its not a good time.”  _ Fuck. I can't believe we fell asleep naked...again. What if Sam sees me? What if my mom saw me?? _

“Your mom sent me to wake you up for breakfast...of like, epic proportions. It’s not my fault you guys were up having sex all night.”

“What?” Castiel asked, his voice raising a little in panic.

“Yeah, you guys are loud. Especially you, Cas. Some of us were actually trying to sleep.”

“Oh god…” Castiel said, hyperventilating a bit, “Do you...do you think my parents heard us?”

Sam thought a moment, “Mm..probably not, I heard you on my way to the bathroom.”

Castiel’s face was crimson, “Dean,” he shook him gently, “Baby, come on, wake up.”

Dean’s only response was an arm wrapping around Cas and pulling him back into bed, “Go back...sleep baby…” he murmured.

“Dean, come on. My mom's making breakfast. We'll take a nap later. I promise,” Castiel whispered in his ear, brushing his fingers lovingly through his hair.

“Dean, it’s Christmas,” Sam whined, “Come on.”

“Mmm…” Dean groaned, rolling onto his back, squinting his eyes, “It’s not even light yet.”

“Who cares? There's presents!” Sam said excitedly, “And food! Get your ass up!” 

“Come on, baby,” Castiel coaxed, “There will be a nap later. I'm sorry I kept you up so late, Dean.” 

“Mmm,  _ I’m _ not,” Dean said groggily, sitting up and kissing Castiel’s cheek.

“Dean!” Castiel blushed, “Sam's still here.” 

“Eww, Dean, that's fucking gross. I don't want to see your naked asses anyways. Better be down in five or I'll be back,” Sam vowed, shutting the door.

“Think five minutes is enough time to…?” Dean said slyly, laying back down and pulling Cas down with him, kissing him softly. 

“No,” Castiel laughed, kissing him back, “That's how we got into this mess in the first place.” 

“I like this mess,” Dean said, getting up and tugging clothes out of his football bag, getting dressed into a v-neck and plaid overshirt, as well as a pair of jeans, purposefully letting Cas watch him slide the denim over his bare ass, “And I love you. Merry Christmas, Cas.”

“Merry Christmas, Dean,” Castiel smiled, kissing him before pulling on his underwear and flannel pajamas.

“We should probably get down there,” Dean said, yawning and stretching, “Before Sam takes all the bacon  _ and _ all the presents.” 

Castiel nodded, kissing Dean's cheek before heading downstairs. The tree was lit up from the night before, and Sam gawked at all the presents. Castiel walked into the kitchen, “Smells good, mom.” 

Dean nodded, “It looks great, Mrs. Novak,” he agreed as the doorbell rang.

“Sam, dear, why don’t you go and get that before you get too curious?” Mrs. Novak smiled, poking her head out of the kitchen.

“Alright, Alice,” Sam said, running for the door. Sam squealed as he opened it. “Uncle Bobby!”

Bobby came in with an armful of presents that he laid under the tree. “Hey Sam. Something sure smells good in here,” Bobby replied. 

Even Dean rushed out of the kitchen, a look of surprise and excitement passing over his face in a rare occurrence, “Bobby!? I thought you left already!” Dean said, meeting Bobby in a bear hug. “Cas?” Dean ran into the kitchen, grabbing Cas by the arm and pulling him out into the living room, “Cas, this is my Uncle Bobby,” he said with a grin.

Castiel tripped a little with the speed and enthusiasm Dean was dragging him along with, “Nice to meet you, sir,” he said, stretching out his hand for a handshake.

“Just call me Bobby,” he answered, ignoring the hand and going straight in for a hug, which completely caught Castiel off-guard. But, he eased into it gradually as Bobby continued, “Besides, I feel like we’re basically family, the way this knucklehead goes on about you.” 

Both Dean and Castiel met the comment with a blush, but Dean was still smiling. Castiel rarely ever saw Dean so happy. He was relieved to see that Dean’s uncle genuinely cared for him. It was almost impossible to picture this man laying a finger on Dean, let alone blackening his eye. He was still skeptical about the bar fight story.

Sam piped in, sitting back on the couch in the seat closest to the presents, shoving his face full of M & Ms, “Sir is for dad,” he said, matter-of-factly.  

Chuck and Anna came down the stairs one after the other, still in pajamas, leaving just Bobby and Dean in jeans and their plaid.

“Bobby,” Chuck said, still a little groggily, but happy nonetheless, “Glad you could make it. Breakfast is almost better than the presents. It’s been awhile.”

_ Man, _ Dean thought,  _ Bobby really does know everyone in Sioux Falls. _

“Glad you invited me, Chuck. Haven’t been home for the holidays in awhile. Glad to see you and the missus have taken such good care of my boys.”

_ His boys,  _ Castiel noted, growing suspicion that maybe Dean’s dad was some sort of abusive alcoholic, after Dean’s stories, and the black eye, and his lack of appearance. He couldn’t help but almost picture a monster in his head whenever he thought about him.

“They’re great kids,” Chuck said. 

Bobby reached into a brown paper sack, pulling out a bottle of scotch, “Maybe a bit early in the day, but, it’s Christmas.”

“Are you staying long? Might have to crack this open with a good round of poker.”

Dean tuned out the rest of the conversation between Bobby and Cas’ dad, instead, the Christmas tree catching his eye, a rather large, tall present standing up on the wall in a rectangular box labeled ‘Dean’.  His eyes widened. 

“Uh huh,” Sam said, mouth still full, “Who’s in the presents  _ now _ ?”

“Get out of the candy jar,” Dean evaded, a little embarrassed to be eyeballing presents like a kid.

“Yeah, Sam,” Castiel agreed, “Or you won't have room for bacon.”

Dean and Bobby both looked up, then at Sam, then each other, “Sam always has room for bacon,” they both agreed.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time breakfast was finished, Dean was still ready for a nap, a food hangover having him resting heavily on the couch with an arm around Cas. Anna eyeballed a stack of similar-sized packages with her name on them at the front of the tree, “Mom...you put the receipts in there, right?”

Chuck shot Anna a look, “Anna…” he said, warning her.

First, Chuck pulled the stockings down. Inside were candies for each of the kids, some jerky, and some small trinkets- Cas got some word search books, Anna got nail polish and some make-up, Dean got guitar picks, and Sam and Cas both got packs of Pokemon cards that Sam was only too eager to rip open. “I GOT A FREAKING NINETAILS!!” He shouted, joyfully, shoving the card in Dean’s face.

As everyone finished digging through their stockings, even Uncle Bobby, Mrs. Novak began digging in the massive pile of presents.

“So, we have a tradition,” Mrs. Novak started, once everyone got settled down, “The youngest always gets the first gift. Usually, that’s Castiel. This year, it’s you, Sam,” Mrs. Novak beamed, handing Sam a carefully wrapped present, which caused Dean to sit up a little more enthusiastically, happy to see his brother having a real Christmas.

Everyone looked on as Sam ripped through the paper. For a moment, it looked like he quit breathing. That was before he nearly screamed, “HOLY SHIT, IT’S A GAMEBOY COLOR!!!” 

“Sam!” Dean shot him a look, glancing quickly at Mr. and Mrs. Novak.

“Boy, how many times do we have to tell you to watch your language?” Bobby couldn’t help but chuckle. Even Dean was smiling.

“I think what he means to say is thank you,” Dean said.

Sam ignored everything, getting up and throwing his arms around Mr. and Mrs. Novak. 

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! This is the best gift ever!” Sam squealed. 

“Of course, dear, we’re glad you like it,” Mrs. Novak said, beaming. 

“All right, all right,” Anna said, actually smiling, “Can we all open presents now...please?”

“All right,” Chuck agreed, “Kids presents first.”

That meant what were supposed to be small presents. Anna and Castiel had a long standing rule of getting each other gift cards with the money Mrs. Novak required them to spend on each other. The second they were opened, Mrs. Novak scoffed, “For goodness sake, you two. I said actual presents this year,” she scolded as each of them handed presents out to each other- saving the ones from the parents for last.

Dean grabbed a big present from under the tree, messily wrapped, little bits of the white underside of the paper sticking out under the folds, layers of tape, obviously a Dean Winchester classic. He sat it down in front of Cas as Anna began ripping through boxes of clothes. Her pile under the tree was definitely the most numerous.

“Curious?” Dean teased.

“Yes,” Castiel smiled back, before ripping through the paper. It was a telescope. It took Castiel a minute to make the connection, but then he remembered the stars in his room. It had always been their thing. There was also a note that read: 

_ Cas-tiel, _

_ Look up at the stars with this and start counting. For however long it takes to count them all, I will be loving you.  _

_ Yours, _

_ Dean _

 

_ PS: I can’t wait to take you out in the Impala and  _ **_look at the stars_ ** _.  _

 

Dean gave Castiel a suggestive look, both smiling, and blushing at his own note, which was pretty much the most girly thing he’d ever written in his life. Somehow, Cas always managed to bring out his inner chick. 

Castiel handed Dean a beautifully wrapped, rattly box as he blushed, thinking of what could happen when they were stargazing in the Impala. 

“I can’t wait, either,” he whispered to Dean, “Open mine next.”

“It’s too pretty to open,” Dean teased, handing Sam a box at the same time.

While Dean was teasing Castiel, Sam had already torn through the paper of his present from Dean. “Duke Nukem!? Sweet!” Sam exclaimed, looking at the cover of the very innapropriate video game. Sam and Dean had played the original to death, and this one had multiplayer.

“Turn it over, Sam,” Dean said as he began unwrapping Castiel’s present, confused to find several more wrapped presents inside.

“No way! The Offspring!? Dean, are we really gonna go!?”

“First concert, what could go wrong?” Dean teased, turning back to Cas.

“The big one first,” Castiel smiled.

Dean plucked up the biggest of them all, which was still not incredibly large, and tore the wrapping paper off. Inside was a portable CD player, a blue and green Walkman.

“It’s about time Dean came into this century,” Sam teased as he shredded through more presents, “Good job, Cas.”

“Your cassette player has seen better days, baby,” Castiel agreed, “Do you like it?”

Dean was torn. It was kind of his and dad’s thing, trading back cassette tapes...one of the rare bonding moments they had. The cassette player had been a gift from dad, back when he was about thirteen. 

Somehow, it felt like the rest of his life, finally moving on to something better, to something new. “It’s great,” he said after a moment of thought, “But I don’t have any…”

Castiel nodded to the rest of the presents in the box.

“Oh…” Dean said with a grin that turned into a blush when he opened the first CD. ‘Journey’s Greatest’. It was followed with Kansas, Led Zeppelin, The Best of the Oldies, Guns ‘N Roses, and Aerosmith- all music that Dean would have sorely missed on cassette.

He looked relieved, “Thank you, baby,” he said as he began trying to read on the back how the thing worked.

“Here Cas, open mine,” Sam replied, handing him a poorly wrapped present, as well as handing Dean one, “You too, Dean.” 

Castiel opened the paper to reveal three new  _ Buffy the Vampire Slayer _ books. The one on top had Angel on the cover, titled  _ The Angel Chronicles. _ He beamed, “Thanks Sam. Angel’s one of my favorites.” 

“Yeah I gathered that,” Sam smirked, “When Dean was using his picture for target practice.” 

Castiel blushed a bit. “Baby, are you...jealous?” 

“Really...Sam?” Dean grumbled, turning a little red. It was hard to decipher whether the comment was meant as a remark for him letting spill that Dean shot at Angel’s face, or that Sam had gotten Cas the books in the first place.

He lightened up a little when he opened Sam’s present to reveal a new game for the Super Nintendo called Demon’s Crest. They’d both found it a little ironic playing a demon, especially one that looked nothing like the real demons, but neither of them could deny that the game looked badass. 

“This for you or for me?” he teased.

“For both of us, duh!” Sam smirked. 

Limited on funds, the only other person Sam had bought anything for was Amber. He was supposed to visit her tomorrow when she got back from her grandparents. Mrs. Novak had helped him wrap it, but it was a gift basket filled with jerky, chips, and candy to snack on while gaming. In the bottom was a small box with a gold heart shaped necklace. 

Castiel handed Sam his present next.  Sam shredded through the paper and was almost as excited as he was for the Gameboy Color. He tackled Castiel in a hug. “POKEMON RED! This is the best Christmas ever!” 

“I thought you might like it,” Castiel smiled. 

The Novaks had been very generous this Christmas. They’d made sure Dean and Sam had just as much as Castiel and Anna, treating them just like members of the family. Everyone had gotten clothes, and Mrs. Novak had hand knitted each of them scarves and hats. Anna had a substantial mountain of clothes, shoes, and purses as well as make up (complete with receipts), CDs, and a new cordless telephone for her room. Castiel had received a new printer for his computer, a connector for his Gameboy so he and Sam could play together, as well as games for his computer, Gameboy, and Nintendo 64. Even Bobby had received a new hat. 

It was hard telling whether the Novaks had planned to have Bobby over or that he was just really good at getting presents at the last minute. Uncle Bobby had gotten Mrs. Novak a pedicure kit to follow Chuck’s bottle of scotch. He’d gotten Castiel some books, including the  _ Lord of the Rings _ trilogy, and he’d even gotten Anna a gift card for the mall. Sam squealed as Bobby handed him Pokemon Blue and Rainbow Six for the Gameboy Color. For Dean, Bobby had gotten him a stack of movies to watch with Castiel- mostly old Westerns with a couple of chick flicks.

The last presents were Dean’s and his eyes were fixed on the large present that had his name on it. While everyone else had heaps of presents, Dean had been limited to just a couple, which was fine for him. He felt bad enough that he wasn’t the best at picking out presents.

He ripped through the paper, all eyes on him as he unraveled a box containing a guitar. His eyes widened when he saw the brand. Fender. Fender Stratocaster. “Holy shit!” Dean couldn’t help but exclaim because  _ Eddie Mother-fucking Van Halen played a Fender Strat.  _ He nearly dropped the guitar in shock. They were beautiful, the sounds they made were orgasmic, and they were expensive as hell.

“Dean, don’t swear,” Bobby scolded, coming over to look at Dean’s guitar as well. 

“I think what he means to say is ‘thank you’,” Sam mocked.

“Do you like it?” Chuck asked, with a smile, “Castiel helped us pick one out for you.”

“It’s too much-” he said, realizing the guitar was shaking in his hands. His own father would never indulge his hobbies like this. He would never buy him a second-rate acoustic...let alone such an exquisite, expensive guitar. He didn’t even feel like he should be touching an instrument this majestic.

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t say that,” Mrs. Novak said with a smile, “It’s not too much at all. We love you and Sam to pieces. Chuck,” she motioned to her husband.

Chuck brought over a heavier present, and as Dean opened it, he found the amp and cords that went with the Fender, “Who knows...we might have a rock star for a son-in-law one day. It’s a good investment,” he joked.

Dean felt his face heating up again, and then tears stinging his eyes before he could even realize. He fought them back as one managed to fall down his red face. 

He’d never had this. Not since mom left. No words could convince him that he deserved any of this...and he was beyond grateful. “...thank you,” he said, trying to hide the fact that the one tear had fallen.

“Play us something, Dean,” Castiel suggested, wrapping an arm around him. He was glad to see his boyfriend so happy. He’d never seen him so emotional. 

“I...ah…” Dean stumbled, Chuck coming to his rescue.

“He’ll have to tune it, son. It’ll take awhile. Maybe later. I think there’s one more for you and Dean both, though. Up in your room.”

“Thank you for the presents, sweetheart,” Mrs. Novak smiled at Dean, as Chuck directed them upstairs. 

Waiting for them, with a big red bow, was a 27-inch box TV with a built in VHS player, sitting on a new entertainment stand full of some of the movies they’d already watched, with room for the ones they’d gotten for Christmas. It replaced Castiel’s old TV, which was a fair bit smaller, and grainier. 

Dean sat back on the bed in disbelief. _ So...this was Christmas _ .

“Merry Christmas!” The Novaks called upstairs.

“THANKS MOM AND DAD!” Castiel called from the top of the stairs, “MERRY CHRISTMAS!” 

Castiel closed the door, before laying on top of Dean and kissing him. “Merry Christmas, baby.” 

* * *

 

Downstairs, the adults were cleaning up the mess of wrapping paper that had tiled the floor, and organizing the gifts for the kids to collect later. Sam was in the study, on the couch, immersed in Pokemon Red, and Anna had already left to a friend’s again.

“Thank you for coming, Bobby,” Chuck said again, “It meant a lot to them, and we were glad to have you.”

Mrs. Novak seemed a little less happy than usual on the subject, “Of course we’re glad to have you, Bobby...but what about their dad? Shouldn’t he be here for Christmas with the boys?”

They had invited John, who hadn’t bothered to send an RSVP, either way, and didn’t bother to show up either.

“John’s work keeps him away a lot. The boys understand. It’s been like this for years. I really do appreciate everything you both have done for them and for me. It’s not often they get a Christmas.”

“What could possibly be more important than his own kids?” Mrs. Novak continued, “Especially today. It’s one day a year that the boys should have their father. Castiel told me that Dean has been on his own with Sam for a long time. What kind of life is that for a child? For either of them?”  
“Alice…” Chuck cautioned, “It’s really not our….”

“It is our place, Chuck. For goodness sakes, Dean’s such a good boy. Sam, too. They shouldn’t have to worry about adult things. It breaks my heart thinking of them on their own, without a mother or father. Dean should get to be a child without worrying about bills, and money. He doesn’t even think he has a future.”

“I know, Alice,” Bobby agreed, “I fight John all the time to just try to give the boys some sense of normalcy, but he has his mind set and ain’t nothing gonna change it. He’s working real hard to provide for them. I’m not defending him by any means, I’m just saying he has his reasons.”

“There’s a lot more to providing for a child than making sure they have money, Bobby.” Mrs. Novak said, realizing the harshness of her own words, “I’m sorry...I just, I can’t. Not right now. Not on Christmas.” She excused herself to the kitchen.

* * *

 

The tense atmosphere evaporated as Mrs. Novak poured her heart into cooking Christmas Dinner, which was almost as big as Thanksgiving Dinner, minus the obnoxious relatives.

While delicious smells wafted from the kitchen, Bobby and Chuck sat down to play that game of cards. 

When dinner was ready, they ate, and then they played games and talked, and joked until it was late, and Dean had to take Sam back to the house to get ready for his Christmas with Amber.

Mrs. Novak had thought it best that Dean and Sam spend some time with their Uncle in the very least, so Dean had reluctantly pried himself away from Cas for the entirety of the night- to go home before Bobby left in the morning. 

They were gathering at the door to say their temporary goodbyes, after stuffing presents and leftover food into the car when Dean pulled Castiel aside, handing him a cracked cassette tape holder, inside which was a cassette with a label of ‘For Castiel’ in Dean’s writing of boxed capital letters. 

“Wait till I leave,” he said, kissing his loved one on the cheek. “Call me later, okay? I’ll be back as soon as Sam’s over at Amber’s and Uncle Bobby’s left tomorrow. Promise.”

“Okay,” Castiel agreed, sad that Dean wasn’t staying over, but curious about the cassette, “Drive safe, Dean. I love you.” It still felt strange to say the words aloud, in front of other people.

Dean smiled, “I love you too, baby.”

As soon as the door closed, Castiel bolted upstairs and put the tape into the stereo. 

The cassette contained a bit of silence for a couple seconds before a crackling sound came from it, and a guitar started strumming in the background. 

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Dean’s voice said from the cassette a couple of moments before he began singing.

Castiel was completely thrown off guard, especially by the song choice. But he was blown away as always with how beautiful Dean’s voice sounded. 

 

_ Baby, I’m so into you… _

_ You’ve got that somethin’, what can I do? _

_ Baby, you spin me around… _

_ The Earth is movin’, but I can’t feel the ground… _

 

The song switched in perfect rhythm from Britney Spears’ ‘U Drive me Crazy’ to Aerosmith’s ‘Crazy’, mid sentence-

 

_ Ooooh, that kind of lovin’, _

_ Turns a man to a slave… _

_ Ooooh, that kind of lovin’, _

_ Sends a man right to his grave. _

_ You know I’m crazy, crazy… _

_ Crazy for you baby…. _

_ Crazy, Crazy, _

_ Crazy for you, baby…. _

 

Castiel’s breath caught in his chest. Dean was singing to him. He’d made a tape just for him, combining their two favorite genres together, writing a song that was just for him.  It was so beautiful, his voice was so sexy. It was honestly the best Christmas present of all- one that he could replay again, and again.

 

_ Tell me, you’re so into me, _

_ That I’m the only one you will see, _

_ Tell me, I’m not in the blue, _

_ That I’m not wastin’ my feelings on you, _

_ Every time I look at you… _

_ My heart is jumpin’, what can I do? _

 

The guitar faltered a little before Dean picked it back up like the error had never been made.

 

_ You drive me crazy, _

_ I just can’t sleep… _

_ Crazy… _

_ I’m in too deep. _

_ You know I’m crazy, but it feels all right… _

_ Baby, thinking of you keeps me up all night. _

_ You know I’m crazy, crazy, _

_ Crazy for you, baby, _

_ Crazy...crazy… _

_ Crazy...for you baby. _

 

“I love you, Cas,” the cassette told him, before switching over to other songs that the two of them liked, by the original artist.

Castiel missed Dean’s voice the second it faded away- but he imagined that it would have taken a good bit of time to record an entire tape of songs.

So, he rewound Dean’s version of ‘Crazy’, listening to it another two times before deciding he missed Dean too much, picking up the phone, and calling. He knew Dean wouldn’t be home yet, but he left a voicemail on the machine for him anyway.

“Hey Dean, I got your present. I love it. Your voice sounds so beautiful. Make me another one soon with your new guitar alright? Call me when you get home. I miss you already.”

Castiel felt relief that Dean and Sam had finally had a real Christmas. It was something he wanted to give to Dean since that first night Dean had admitted that he’d never really had one. He pulled Dean’s leather jacket on and popped one of their favorite movies in. He curled up in bed, wondering how it was going to be possible to sleep all alone tonight, without Dean beside him. He held the phone in his hand waiting for his baby to call. 

Castiel thought back to the words his Dad had chosen earlier, ignoring the movie.  _ Who knows...we might have a rock star for a son-in-law one day.  _ He blushed thinking about it.  _  One day, we will be married and he will be their son-in-law. One day, I’m going to be Mr. Winchester.  _

Castiel’s dreams of the future were interrupted momentarily by the phone ringing. He picked up on the first ring.

“Hey there, beautiful,” Dean said before Castiel could speak.

There was no question. This...being with Dean, being Dean’s…. was how he wanted to spend every day for the rest of his life...and maybe even the next one.

“Hey, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songlist for the Chapter:
> 
> Jingle Bell Rock- Bobby Helms  
> Any Way You Want It- Journey  
> Crazy/U Drive Me Crazy- Glee
> 
> **Notes from the Author**:  
> First, would love to hear your thoughts, as always, don't be shy. Sorry it took a little longer than expected to release this chapter- coming up with gift ideas for so many characters is HARD. <3  
> If anyone wants to hear the song Dean wrote for Castiel, it actually comes from the show 'Glee' and you can hear a (not Dean Winchester) version here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CZW3LRbqcNo
> 
> Once again, I hope you all have the most beautiful rest of your year, and a happy holiday.  
> See you soon!  
> 


	8. Kryptonite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happiness has Dean and Castiel shooting through the stars. Things couldn't be better. But even heroes have their kryptonite- and it's not always what they expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this Chapter: Violence (but not Cas/Dean :P, no worries there)
> 
> I was going to post this for you guys for Christmas- but this chapter is a little deep- so I figured I'd save you from the feels. But, surprise! A post before New Year *flexes*.  
> Again, I warn you that while we try to keep a lot of the canon elements of the story, that this is fanfiction and is not /always/ going to fit with canonverse Supernatural. This chapter expresses that.  
> Also, it's a rare taste into a few different character's heads. We usually leave it at Castiel and Dean's POV, but due to the nature of this chapter- you get a little more into a few different character's minds. Don't worry, don't worry, there's plenty of Destiel feels, still. And to make up for the sad undertones, promise you a very cute and fluffy chapter to follow.  
> I hope you all had a wonderful holiday, and are ready to bring in the new year. May it bring you love, peace and kindness, always.  
> Remember to comment, if you enjoy or notice anything. Really makes my day more than you know <3  
> Next Chapter Expected by: January 24, 2017 (Hmm...that sounds like a special date...wonder what it could be)

* * *

* * *

 

_January 3, 1999_

 

_Shit, it’s cold._

Dean couldn’t help his heavy breathing as he ran through the trees. It was too damn cold, and he could feel the icy air piercing his lungs. It almost felt like a knife. There was a pain in his chest from how hard he was running through the snow, but he had to keep going.

_A demon should never get this close._

It wasn’t even a week after Bobby had left that things had gone south. Very south. Hell kind of south. Dad had called him with a lead on a demon right after New Year and simply told him, “I trust you to take care of it. Quietly, boy.”

How could Dad have been so calm? This wasn’t just a demon that happened to be in South Dakota...it was one of _his_ minions...the demon with the yellow eyes. If Yellow Eyes knew that the Winchesters were in Sioux Falls, that could mean very little other than that no one around them was safe.

He couldn’t rest comfortably until the threat was eliminated, and while Sammy’s life was definitely reason in and of itself to make this kill quick, there was more to worry about here: Castiel, and his family, who knew nothing of demons from Hell. Salt around the Novak house, and sigils etched into various pieces of furniture did nothing to put Dean’s mind at ease, nor did the proximity in which he’d found the demon.

He and Castiel had been getting cocoa at the diner, rather than their usual milkshakes, when he had seen it- just sitting there in a booth, eating a plate of french fries. His suspicions were confirmed when he had Connie offer the stranger in the booth a Monte Cristo sandwich. At the word ‘Christo’, it flinched. It fucking flinched.

A look passed between them, and the Demon’s eyes twinkled with what was almost amusement. _Clever, boy. I know who you are, too._

That look was enough to chill Dean to the core, and he couldn’t get out of the diner fast enough. He drove the Impala aimlessly, around and around until the demon couldn’t have followed them, making bad excuses to sate Castiel’s curiosity.

Once he had dropped Castiel off at home, he set out on a mission. Hunt or be hunted...he’d always preferred the prior.

Dean had barely realized that the footprints were veering around before he was greeted with a mouthful of snow. The demon had snuck up behind him and tackled him to the ground from behind. He rolled over, frantically, trying to get to his feet, but the demon was one step ahead, its hands around his neck, choking him. It was like something out of a nightmare- its eyes pure black, a smile on his face. Normal people would have panicked, and started praying- for death, or salvation...but Dean Winchester was not ‘normal’ in that sense.

Adrenaline kicked in, and it was fight or flight. He flipped the demon off of him with a grunt. It was hard to feel his own hands moving. It was just too cold.

He somehow managed to scramble to his feet before the demon, punching it in the face as it came back for more. His ass hit the snow as the demon swept his legs out from beneath him, trying to regain its prior position. This time, Dean was ready and kicked it in the face, before realizing that somewhere inside the fucker was a human.

He hated these things for that...for their ability to make real people feel real pain while they just enjoyed the ride in the body.

“You’re going to pay for that, you little shit,” the demon vowed, spitting out blood, and staining the snow, getting back to his feet and facing off with Dean again.

“Not if I send you back to Hell first, you evil son of a bitch.”

“The one that’s gonna be burning is you,” the demon smirked, “Just like your mommy.”

Dean was seeing red again, a kind of anger that burned deeper than words could allow- that kicked him into a physical reaction. His throat was scratchy, vision blurred, and in front of him, all he could see was one thing: target practice.

The demon was fast enough to evade most of Dean’s punches, but he still got a few in across the face, and kicked him in the chest. The demon stumbled back, and from the new rip in his shirt, Dean could see a bullet hole that had fatally landed in the meatsuit’s heart.

Dean grinned, “Guess I don’t have to go easy on you, after all. This is gonna be fun.”

The demon lunged at Dean, who dodged and tossed the demon aside. The fucker came back around like a boomerang and tackled Dean back to the ground, hands wrapping around his throat again.

Dean gasped for air as the forest began to dim. He fumbled around him for something, anything, lucky enough to find a rock lying in the snow.  He bashed the demon over the head, causing it to slump over on top of Dean, who laid gasping for a few precious seconds before shoving the demon off, “Sweet dreams.”

Dean could have ended it there, exorcising the demon back to the fire and brimstone where it belonged...but he knew Dad wanted more, expected something more than just another exorcised demon. So, he grabbed at the backpack on his back, pulling out a rope, a can of spray paint, and a lighter.

He tied the demon up, dragging him to a sturdy and thick tree, and spray painting a demon trap on its trunk the best he could with shaking hands, before tying it up tight with the rope securely enough that the demon wouldn’t be going anywhere- at least, not in that meatsuit.

After everything was secure, Dean dug into the snow, using some nearby fallen branches to create a small fire to ease the physical pain of the frost, chilling him more and more. Wouldn’t be much of a point if he died of hypothermia or frostbite out here.

He was less than gentle, smacking the demon awake, “Rise and shine,” he said with a grin, “Today’s your lucky day. You’re going to tell me everything. And maybe I might let you go back to Hell instead of killing you.”

The demon growled again, its neck snapping in an entirely inhuman way as he smiled, “You might as well send me back to Hell, Winchester, and be done with it. I’ll never tell you anything about Azazel.”

 _Azazel._ Had Dad learned the demon’s name? Or, had Dean just gotten new information? Something that would please John.

“So, go on, kill me and make your daddy proud. That’s what you live for. That and that sweet little bookworm from the diner. What was it? Castiel?” Hearing Cas’ name on its lips sent a disgusting cold chill down his spine. “Now, Dean, what would daddy say if he found out you were pitching for the wrong team?”

Dean couldn’t place whether what he was feeling was fear or anger. It knew about Cas. He couldn’t send it back to Hell with that kind of information. What kind of evil would come back to Sioux Falls and terrorize Dean with what he loved?

“You’re thinking about him on the ceiling, aren’t you, Dean?” It laughed. “I’d be happy to make that dream come true for you.”

“I’ll kill you,” Dean growled, his voice growing darker- wishing that he had some sort of weapon that would do just that.

“You don’t know how to kill me.”

It was true. This was one of his first encounters with a demon. Dad usually hunted these sons of bitches, keeping the boys far away- but not without a little lesson in Latin.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…” Dean began, hoping the words were right, because truth be told, he was a little rusty, and didn’t want to take chances.

“I’ll find you, Dean, and when I do I’ll make sure to have Sammy join Castiel on the ceiling. Roast them both up good for you,” the demon smirked, blood dripping from his disturbing grin.

_You better hope you’re wrong, you son of a bitch. Because it won’t take me long to learn how to kill you after this. Hell will look like child’s play when I’m through with you. You won’t touch them! You won’t ever fucking touch them._

He opened his bottle of water, lucky it hadn’t begun to freeze yet, tossing it on the demon, for kicks. Holy water. Dad always left a gallon or two in the car. The demon hissed in pain as Dean grit his teeth, his voice raising, “Omnis satanica potestas omnis incursio infernalis adversarii…”

“What will your father think of you then? When you let your little brother die, just like your mother? You’ll be nothing but a disappointment. It’s all you’ve ever been.”

“I think that you talk a lot of shit, but you’re the one tied to a tree. My dad might be a mean son of a bitch, but I can only imagine what Yellow Eyes is gonna do when you come back empty handed. I’m not scared of you, you ugly fuck. You should be scared of me, though. It hurts, right? The exorcism. Oh, I hope so. I hope you feel it burning straight back down to hell. Tell Azazel the Winchesters send their regards. Omnis legio...omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo, Draco maledicte et omnis...”

“How certain are you that I’m coming back empty handed? Checked on Sammy lately? Bobby? Or are you too busy sucking your boyfriend’s cock? You can’t be everywhere at once Dean. You’d do well to remember that,” the demon laughed as he began pouring black smoke from his mouth.

“You keep my brother’s name out of your fucking mouth,” Dean swore, “My family can hold their own. Especially against some piss-poor excuse for a demon. Now shut up,” Dean said, kicking his foot into the demon’s throat, finishing the exorcism and watching the meat suit flop to the ground as the demon went up in a terrifying puff of black smoke into the night sky.

Dean cleaned up as much of the mess as he could, blood in the snow and spray paint aside...he made it back to the car well after midnight, ready to feel the warmth of the heater on his frigid flesh. He put the keys in the ignition, stroking the steering wheel lovingly, “C’mon, Baby, let’s get out of here.”

He was met with a whining noise, and no turn-over. He tried again. When he checked under her hood, lines had been cut. It seemed the demon had left him with a parting gift.

“SON OF A BITCH!” Dean swore, kicking a tire, before apologizing immediately to the car, “I’m sorry, Baby, I’m sorry.”

He looked around to the nothingness surrounding him. Nothing but open road and a sign about a quarter mile down that read ‘Welcome to Sioux Falls’. While the city slept, he was in for a hell of a long walk.

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel was fighting his own demons. These were the kind with contorted faces from Sunnydale. He’d fallen asleep while reading one of his new Buffy books, and found himself immersed in the world of Buffy- of slaying vampires and demons. In this world, he was good at it, enjoyed being the hero. All of a sudden, Sunnydale turned to ice.

He jolted awake to cold arms wrapping tight around him, “D-Dean!?”

“Yeah, Cas, it’s me.”

“What are you doing here? It’s a school night. You’re freezing!”

 _Oh yeah,_ Dean thought, _School..._

“It’s cold outside,” Dean tried to joke as he shook uncontrollably against Cas. His loved one’s warm skin felt like fire and needles, poking into his flesh. It was almost too much after walking a couple hours in the cold. He was lucky that he had the hat and scarf Mrs. Novak had knitted him in the back of the car still, with a heavy winter coat in Baby’s trunk. Just in case. He’d stripped out of everything but his boxers when he’d come in, snaking his arms under Castiel’s pajamas, “S-sorry, baby.”

“What happened?” Castiel asked, sitting up, attention on Dean now as he climbed out of bed, grabbing a couple extra blankets from the closet, and tripping over Dean’s pile of clothes and boots in the process.

“Car broke down. It’s okay, ‘s okay, I’m okay…” he chattered, the words melding a little together, “Come back to bed, Cas.”

“And you walked all this way?” Castiel asked, incredulously as he piled the blankets on top of Dean.

“Closer than home,” Dean half-shrugged,, invading Castiel’s personal space with his body again, wrapping around him tightly. Couldn’t he explain all of this tomorrow? He just wanted to sleep, maybe for years. His eyes felt so heavy.

“Dean, don’t scare me like that. You could have gotten hypothermia. Next time call, no matter how late. Alright, baby?” He rubbed his arms up and down Dean’s back trying to warm him up. _I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you._

“Okay, baby,” Dean murmured, snuggling into Castiel, regardless of the fact that he didn’t have quarters on him for a payphone, “Go back to sleep. I’ve got you.”

Sleep didn’t come easily for Castiel, with Dean warming up so slowly next to him. He ran his fingers through Dean’s hair, _What on Earth was he thinking? He could have gotten himself killed out in the snow. He’s too reckless._ Eventually, his fingers stopped running through Dean’s hair, and he fell asleep holding him in his arms.

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel tossed and turned in his sleep, before waking up again in the dark, nearly falling off the edge of the bed. He’d been trying, he realized, to scoot away from Dean, whose body felt like fire. He stumbled out of bed again, still half asleep, to the bathroom, getting the digital thermometer.

“Dean,” Castiel shook Dean a little, holding the thermometer, “Baby, you’re burning up, let me take your temperature.” He wasn’t met with a response other than Dean’s shaking, “Dean!”

He shoved the thermometer between Dean’s lips anyway, waiting a few seconds for a ‘beep’. It flashed 104.2 as Dean grabbed Castiel’s arm, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“What? What are you talking about, baby?” Castiel asked as he double checked the thermometer.

“Shouldn’t…be here, Cas,” Dean said. He had to warn him, before it was too late. And it was so cold...so fucking cold. What was he doing here? A hunt was no place for his angel, and he was almost certain he’d dropped Castiel off at home earlier.. “You have to go.”

“Dean, I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” Castiel asked, getting more and more worried, “You’re just dreaming, baby. Here, let me go get you some Ibuprofen to bring your fever down.”

“Don’t have time. Go. It’s gonna kill you...Sammy...the demon…Cas...go…” he pushed weakly against Castiel, “Run. You have to…” Dean’s flailing stilled.

_What the Hell is he talking about? What kind of dream is he having? My poor baby._

“Dean? Dean?” Castiel asked. Alarmed by the lack of response, he pressed his ear closer to Dean’s face. He wasn’t breathing. Panic flooded Castiel. He didn’t know what else to do. “MOM!” he screamed, “MOM!!!”

Anna threw open the bathroom door, “Some of us are trying to s-”

She stopped, seeing the look of panic and the tears running down Castiel’s cheeks as he cradled Dean. “Oh god, is he-”

“He’s not breathing,” Castiel sobbed.

Anna threw open the bedroom door, catching both Mr. and Mrs. Novak halfway up the stairs. She grabbed her mom by the arm, “Mom, Dean’s not breathing…” she said, panicked.

“Dean…?” Mrs. Novak questioned, still groggy. Dean hadn’t been over last night.

Chuck pushed past them both, rushing into Castiel’s room, “Put him down, son.”

“He’s not...he’s not breathing, dad...” Castiel said through his tears, doing as told.

Chuck began mouth-to-mouth as Mrs. Novak gasped in the doorway, “I’ll...I’ll get the car.”

“Come on, son,” Chuck said, pressing on Dean’s chest, “Work with me here.”

“Should I call 9-1-1, Dad?” Castiel asked, voice shaking.

_Please be okay, baby. Please. Don’t do this to me. Please be alright._

Dean gripped onto Chuck, gasping for air before falling limp again, his chest rising and falling, but his body shaking. “Get his clothes, Castiel. Quickly. He’s breathing, but we need to get him to the hospital, now. It’ll be faster if we drive.”

Anna grabbed Dean’s clothes off the floor without so much as an ‘eww’, and began helping Castiel get him re-dressed.

Once his clothes were on, Chuck lifted Dean into his arms with a little effort, “Anna, stay here in case someone needs to call. Come on, Castiel.”

With Dean in Chuck’s arms, the Novaks rushed out of the house.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam was dead to the world when the banging at the door interrupted his dreams. He grabbed his katana from beside the bed, going to the door and staring through the peephole, unsure what he expected to see. It definitely wasn’t Chuck Novak looking like he’d been up the entire night.

He unlocked the deadbolt, leaving the chain in place and opened the door a couple inches, “What do you want?” Sam asked.

“Sam,” Chuck said, “Sam, I need you to come with me. It’s Dean. He’s in the hospital. Grab your things and I’ll explain in the car.”

Sam was torn, his heart aching a bit when he heard the news. It was probably just some minor injury that Dean had managed to get while being...well, Dean. Still.

“...Christo,” Sam whispered, softly, eyeballing Chuck through the peephole. When nothing happened, he continued, “Give me five minutes.”

For someone who hated mornings as much as Sam, it was actually rather impressive the speed at which he managed to get dressed and shove a gun and a knife in the pocket of his hoodie, as well as a bottle of holy water and a silver knife for good measure in the bottom of his backpack. He pocketed the Gameboy Color and a pack of spare batteries for downtime. He brushed his hair, and put on his trusted Pokemon hat.

When he reappeared at the door, he simply locked it behind him and followed Chuck to the car. He didn’t ask until they were in, “So, what happened?” he asked it casually, almost as if it were routine.

Chuck took a breath. He’d been over the story a couple times already, getting all of his details straight, “Well, according to Castiel, Dean came in some time last night saying the car had broken down, and he’d walked over. A couple hours later, Castiel noticed he had a fever, then he stopped breathing for a couple minutes.”

Sam’s eyes widened, a look of genuine concern on his features. He’d expected maybe Dean had got in a fight with someone, or something...maybe he needed stitches. His brother never just...stopped breathing.

Chuck saw the look of concern and continued, “We got him to the hospital. He’s in stable condition now, Sam...they’re just working on bringing his temperature completely down, and running some tests to find out why he stopped breathing. The doctor said that it didn’t look like there was long-term damage to his brain, or anything else- and that he’s going to be alright. I just figured you’d want to be there when he wakes up.” He hit the brakes a little hard at a stoplight, sliding a little on the ice. Chuck had obviously been up this entire time.

Chuck turned to face Sam while they were stopped at the red light, “I don’t suppose you have any idea why Dean was out past midnight on a school night in the middle of winter? We haven’t been able to answer that one.”

Sam shook his head. It wasn't uncommon for Dean to sneak out in the middle of the night, usually to see Cas, but he wasn't about to rat on his brother. Still, he had an unsettling feeling about this, and wished he could talk to Dean and find out what really happened.

Chuck nodded, “All right, I guess we’ll just have to wait on Dean for that one, then.”

“You said the car stopped working?”

“That’s what Dean told Castiel.”

Weird. Dean, and Dad, and Uncle Bobby and even Amber’s mom, Alicia, always made sure that the Impala was in pristine condition. They loved that car about as much as though it were another person- especially Dean. It had never just ‘stopped working’ before.

“Huh…” Sam said.

“I called the school for you and for Dean and Castiel, they know not to expect you today. I also called Bobby,” Chuck said as he pulled in to the hospital, “He’s on his way, too. We didn’t have a number to reach your dad.”

Sam wasn’t even sure _he_ had his dad’s most ‘up to date’ number. “I’ll try calling when we get inside.”

Mrs. Novak rushed into them both when they got inside. Sam looked around the waiting room, but couldn’t find Castiel, or anyone else he might know. Mrs. Novak swooped him into a hug.

“Is he awake?” Sam asked.

“Not yet,” Mrs. Novak answered.

“Have they said anything yet?” Chuck asked.

“Well…” Mrs. Novak said hesitantly, glancing at Sam.

“I want to know,” Sam said. He hated being treated like a kid- unless it was in the form of Lucky Charms and Spaghetti O’s, and maybe a Gameboy.

“Well, they have him on a heart monitor and IV. They think something is wrong with his heart...with the way he was reacting after he quit breathing. They said the fever is from walking out in the cold. He’s got some blisters from minor frostbite. Those will heal. They’re going to run some more tests later, but they have him resting right now. He has a room. It’s 223. You can see him, Sam. Castiel’s with him right now. They only let two back at a time. But, be careful, dear...they just put him in there not even fifteen minutes ago…”

Sam was halfway out of the waiting room when Mrs. Novak stopped him, “Do you have a good phone number for your dad?”

Sam didn’t say a word as he jotted a number down. He was in Dean’s room within a minute. It looked so surreal to see his brother hooked up to various machines, patches on his skin where they were monitoring his heart, an IV dripping into his arm. Dean looked just like he did when he slept, but, this time he was wearing a hospital gown.

Castiel sat by his bed, chair scooted so close that his knees were touching the bedside. He was holding Dean’s hand, just watching him, willing him to wake up.

“Hey Sam,” Castiel said, looking up. Sam could tell that Cas had been crying...there were still streaks of tears running down his face. “He hasn’t woken up yet. The doctors have him on morphine, and a lot of drugs.”

“What...happened?” Sam managed, still in shock to see his brother so weak. This was Dean...reckless, strong, protective, big brother Dean.

“I don’t know…” Castiel said, painfully, “He was really cold, and then he had a fever...and he stopped breathing...the doctor hasn’t told us why yet. At least...not me. I don’t know why it happened. I don’t know why he was out in the snow. I should’ve asked…”

While Castiel was breaking down, Sam thought of the logic, pondering Castiel’s reaction. So Dean hadn’t been trying to visit Castiel. So...what _had_ he been up to? “Did he say anything...before?”

“He was just being...Dean,” Castiel said, “He was fine. But, when he had a fever, he was talking in his sleep….but, it didn’t make sense...he was just dreaming. He was having nightmares about demons.”

A visible chill went up Sam’s spine, all of the little hairs on the back of his neck raising, “What did he say?” Sam said, a lot more seriously than he should have.

“I think he was trying to say that a demon was going to kill me and you if we didn’t run. Poor baby…” Castiel stroked Dean’s hand, “Maybe I’ve been watching too much Buffy with him.”

Sam had to force a laugh that felt wrong, “Heh, yeah. Sounds like he was definitely dreaming.” His heart was pounding and he was on edge now. _Was there still a demon out there? Was it looking for them right now?_

Sam couldn’t focus on the Gameboy at all while he waited for Dean to wake up. He was running over the Latin exorcism Dad had taught them so long ago. He’d planned to take Latin next year in High School, but that would do little good if a demon were to attack them now. What could kill a demon? Probably not his gun.

“Sam…?” Dean croaked out as Sam’s figure came into view on the edge of the bed. He was a shadow, the light was too bright and he had to close his eyes again. He tried to sit up, but his entire body felt like lead.

“Dean!” Sam said, sounding relieved.

Castiel gently put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down, “Lay back,” he soothed.

“Cas…” Dean groaned. His head was spinning and he was more than a little confused, “What’s going on?” His own voice sounded so weak.

“You’re in the hospital,” Sam said, before Castiel could manage, “You quit breathing.”

_Quit...breathing?_

Dean tried to gather his thoughts. What had he been doing before? It hurt to think, it hurt to move, and he just wanted to go back to sleep. But there was something...something he needed to remember. “Dad…called…” he managed. There was a demon in Sioux Falls. That was right.

“Cas, can you give us a minute?” Sam said, before realizing how harsh it had come out, “Please?” Dean would thank him later. No more slip ups in front of Castiel.

Castiel nodded, begrudgingly. It seemed petty to want Dean to say something to him first. Then again, he’d almost died in Castiel’s arms. Now that he was awake, it was all about Sam and his Dad. He just wished he’d say something to him, anything, but he obeyed Sam and stepped out of the room.

Castiel knew that he was on edge, too. Dean would talk to him when he came back...he was certain. _I just...really hate hospitals. I still remember the smell...and...I remember. Not my fondest memories. Not since…_

No. He wouldn’t think about that now. Dean needed him, and he was going to be there for him, no matter what- even if it meant sitting in this hospital in an uncomfortable chair for days. He walked past Dean’s room and out to the waiting room to let his parents know that Dean was finally awake.

* * *

 

 

When Castiel was safely out of the room, Sam looked back at Dean, “Did you kill it?”

Dean had to think. Everything was still fuzzy. There was blood, and a fire, and snow. He had been at the diner with Cas...then, he was in the forest with the demon. There was a fight. He’d...exorcised the demon. Watched it smoke out. So, why was he here?

The car. The car had been tampered with, and he’d ended up walking to Cas’. He didn’t even remember climbing up the window...but he figured that’s what must’ve happened. That still didn’t give him the answer he was looking for.

Dean nodded, “I exorcised it. Sam...what happened?”

“I don’t know. Cas said you stopped breathing…”

As Sam explained what little he knew, Dean’s mind was elsewhere. There was something else. Something important.

“Sam,” Dean interrupted, realization hitting him, as he tried to sit up again. Pain ripped through him and he came right back down. “I need to talk to Dad. Now.”

_Yellow Eyes. His name is Azazel._

 

* * *

 

“Mom, what are you doing?” Castiel asked.

“Phoning Dean’s dad.”

Castiel felt sick, a pit forming in his stomach, “Mom, you can’t.”

“Castiel,” Mrs. Novak answered, a bit appalled, “His dad needs to know that he’s in the hospital.”

“Don’t tell him...about me and Dean…” Castiel said, blushing profusely, “He doesn’t know. Dean hasn’t…”

Mrs. Novak nodded, understandingly as she dialed the number Sam had provided her.

After a couple rings, Castiel heard his mom speak, and realized he didn’t want to be a part of this conversation.

“John Winchester? Alice Novak. I’m Dean’s friend Castiel’s mom.”

“How did you get this number?” John replied gruffly from the other end.

Mrs. Novak looked taken aback at the assertiveness in John’s voice, but tried to remain dignified, even as she stood at the hospital phone in her pajamas, “I have both of your boys here,” she continued, “Dean is in the hospital. He stopped breathing last night.”

“What happened?” John demanded.

“We don’t know,” she admitted, flustered, “My son said he just woke up. He came over to the house last night, freezing cold. When Castiel tried to wake him up, he had a fever, and then stopped breathing. He’s in the Intensive Care right now, so...”

“Let me speak to him,” John replied, cutting her off.

Mrs. Novak wasn’t expecting that...she had been expecting more of a fight from John after all she had heard about him. She put her hand over the receiver, “Castiel, can you go let Sam and Dean know to expect the phone?”

She moved her hand again, “I’m not sure how well he’s feeling, he just woke up. I’ll have them transfer you. Room 223,” she told one of the nurses attendants, watching as the door to the ICU swung shut behind Castiel.

The phone rang before Dean had been briefed. Castiel opened the door, “It’s your dad.”

Sam went to answer it, and Dean’s hand went up to take it, “I need to talk to him,” Dean croaked out, “Alone.”

Again, Castiel felt like Dean was shutting him out, and even Sam looked a little hurt that he wasn’t trusted, but they obeyed Dean’s wishes nonetheless. There was silence on both ends of the phone while the room cleared out, before Dean breathed into the phone, “Dad?”

“Did you get it, boy?” John's rough voice asked.

“Yes, sir,” Dean said, trying to sound less weak than he felt, “I exorcised it. You didn’t tell me how to kill it. Something else. Information…” He was starting to feel tired from the Morphine again.

“What is it, Dean? Spit it out.”

“Yellow Eyes...its...his name... _Azazel_.” It felt chilling, and at the same time, victorious to give Dad the information, especially if it was new. He hoped it was worth it. New information, something to make Dad proud...would be worth it.

“Good job, Dean. You did good, kid. Get some rest.” The phone clicked.

“Dad?” Dean asked the dial tone. He should have known better. The complement should have been enough. So why didn’t he feel a single bit better? It was the morphine, the drugs, and whatever was wrong with him that was making him cry...it wasn’t because he expected anything more from John Winchester.

A knock came at the door, “Dean, sweetheart?” Mrs. Novak asked, “How are you feeling?”

He couldn’t move fast enough to wipe the tears away, so she did it for him, hanging up the phone, “Is your dad coming?”

“No,” Dean managed, “He’s busy. I’m fine.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, smoothing back his hair, “You don’t always have to be ‘fine’.”

She stayed with Dean until he fell back asleep, which wasn’t long, before letting Castiel and Sam back in. Sam laid on the spare bed, playing Gameboy, while Castiel kept the chair by Dean’s bed as close as he could, holding onto his hand.

The next time Alice Novak phoned John Winchester, she was greeted by a voicemail, so she left a message, angry and uncensored, “Your son is in the hospital. You should be here. They don’t know what’s wrong with him but they think it’s something serious. What kind of father does this to their son- leaves him in a hospital attached to a bunch of machines- or leaves a two teenage boys alone in a house for months on end, or on the holidays. Busy. Dean says you’re busy. He’s always making excuses because that boy still looks up to you. He thinks you’re his hero, but I’ll tell you right now, John Winchester, you’re a coward. A real man would-”

The message ended, having reached the time limit, and the phone clicked.

  


* * *

 

 

Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy.

That was what the doctor said Dean’s condition was- the underlying cause of why he had nearly died. His heart had been failing- and all Castiel had noticed was that Dean had suddenly stopped breathing.

He couldn’t stop beating himself up about it. He was studying to be a nurse. Why hadn’t he noticed something wrong before?

He hadn’t been able to stop crying after his mom had told him, and, although both she and the doctor had assured him that with that specific condition, there were often no symptoms- he couldn’t help but take the blame.

He always did.

Because he should have done something. Anything. Other than just yelled for someone else to come to the rescue. He felt utterly useless. He waited for Dean to wake up, so he could finally try to _do_ something for him. At least they’d moved him into a regular room now, the danger had passed.

They’d installed something called an ICD, which was implanted under the skin near Dean’s collarbone, about the size of a watch. In the end, it would be comparable to any of the rest of his scars. If his heart began to function strangely, the little device was supposed to manage the speed of his heart rate- a lifesaver. Castiel paid close attention to everything the doctor said. If there was ever a next time, or ever anything wrong again- he’d be ready.

When Dean woke up, he  pressed chapped lips against his hand, “Hey there, sunshine.”

“Good mor- well afternoon, baby. Here,” Castiel said, wheeling a tray over to him, “They brought lunch just a few minutes ago. You need to eat, Dean.”

Dean grimaced at the food, “Hospital food isn’t food. And it’s definitely not your mom’s pancakes.” He was feeling better enough that he was able to joke.

“Please? For me?” He said holding a spoonful of soup to Dean's lips. _Please, just let me take care of you._

Dean allowed Castiel to feed him, mostly to sate him, but also because as soon as the first spoonful passed his lips, he realized how hungry he actually was. He was right though, it was no substitute for burgers, or pie, or pancakes. No amount of pain would ever be enough to make Dean stop thinking about food.

He forced his body over a few inches until he hit one of the rails on his bed, before patting the side of the squishy mattress once the tray was pushed to the side, “C’mere, Cas.”

“Dean I….can’t. I'll hurt you.. or we'll get in trouble...or…” Castiel fidgeted nervously.

“It’s not school, Cas, they can’t kick me out of the hospital for cuddling my boyfriend. C’mere.”

Castiel blushed a little, still looking at the door, as he lowered the rail on the bed. He sat on the very edge, holding Dean's hand tight.

Dean tugged on Castiel’s arm, knocking him off his balance and into Dean’s arm, “Come _here,_ baby.” Dean was satisfied as Castiel collapsed in his arms. He ran his fingers through Castiel’s hair gently, whispering, “I’m sorry.”

Castiel knew better than to try and get up. If he’d learned anything over the past few months, it was that what Amber said in the arcade was true. Dean was more than a little stubborn. “Sorry?” He asked, more than a bit confused, “For what, Dean?”

Dean took Castiel’s hand, lacing their fingers, “I know you were worried about me. But I’m not going anywhere, Cas. I’ve got you. I’m sorry I worried you.”

“Dean, baby,” his eyes were brimming with tears, “You don't have anything to be sorry for. I've got you this time. I'm going to take care of you.”   _I was so worried. I thought you were going to die. I don't know what I'd do without you._

“Hey…” he said, tracing a tear down Castiel’s cheek, “You don’t ever have to worry about that. If I ever died, I’d find a way back, I’m not going to leave you alone. You’re stuck with me.”

“Dean, it doesn't work like that,” Castiel whispered.

Dean smiled, “I don’t think you realize how much I love you. You don’t think I’d come back for you?”

“People don’t just come back, Dean. That’s why it doesn’t work like that.”

“The doctors say that I did. That I came back. Didn’t want to be away from you.”

Tears began to well up in Castiel’s eyes again, his voice cracking, “That’s because you’re so fucking stubborn.” Castiel buried his face into Dean’s shoulder, holding onto him a little tighter as he finally let go of the tears. “I’ve never been so afraid. I was so scared, Dean. I thought you were gone,” he sobbed, “You were dead in my arms.”

“Cas…” Dean whispered against his loved one’s hair, somehow surprised at this reaction. He pressed his lips to his head, “I’m here.”

“Why didn’t you call? Why didn’t you just…”

“It was late. I didn’t have quarters for the payphone,” Dean explained, more detail coming to him now.

“Dean, you’re not Superman. You can’t just...do whatever you want. Promise me...promise me you won’t again...what were you even doing out so late in the cold?” Castiel asked incredulously. He knew there were other things to worry about, like the fact that Dean was lying in a hospital bed, connected to IVs and a heart monitor; but, everyone had been curious. He was curious. What was so important that Dean had gotten frostbite and nearly died of a heart condition?

Dean smiled weakly, thinking a moment, “Would you believe me if I said I was out fighting the bad guys?”

“Dean, that’s not funny. It’s not a joke.”

Dean pulled Castiel in closer, against his chest. Castiel was going to move, like his heart was some fragile, breakable thing that might shatter at the least bit of pressure- but then, he heard it- Dean’s heart beating, steadily. It wasn’t the beeping of the monitor, but an actual heartbeat. Dean was here. He was alive. However miraculous it was, this moment was happening.

He fell limp in Dean’s arms. He was done fighting. The darkness had passed.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean wasn’t entirely certain when he fell back asleep, or who fell asleep first- himself, or Castiel. When he woke up, it was dark in his room, but still light outside and no one was keeping them company.

Dean’s arm was wrapped around Castiel, who had fallen asleep on his chest, and was drooling into the hospital gown. Dean’s arm had long gone numb, but he didn’t want to move- just wanted to stay in this moment.

On his bedside sat flowers from the Novaks. He realized he must have had a few more visitors because his CD player was sitting there with a couple CDs and a note that read:

 

_Don’t ever scare me like that again, you ass._

_\--Amber_

 

Beside Amber’s note was a to-go container, a plastic fork, and another note that read.

 

_It’s Apple Pie from the diner. Nurse said no burgers and fries yet, but you can have this. I have the car, so don’t worry, Dean. You just focus on getting better. You’ve got an awful lot of people here that care about you, son. I’ll stop by later and check on you._

_-Bobby_

  


Good. Bobby had the car. Dad would have kicked his ass up and down if he’d have seen Baby on the side of the road on the outskirts of Sioux Falls in the dead of winter. It was one less thing for him to worry about.

The door creaked open and the head nurse came in, “Hey there, handsome,” she smiled, “I heard you were a rulebreaker.”

Dean blushed as Castiel startled awake in his arms, wiping the drool away from his face, “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I...uh…” he stumbled out of the hospital bed. He didn’t remember falling asleep. He could have taken Dean’s IVs or something, or worse….he could have laid on the ICD or ripped open Dean’s stitches.

The nurse smiled, “It’s alright, I just need to take his vitals, hon. Here, take these.” She handed Dean a couple of large pills. He stared at them as the nurse moved his hospital gown, checking on the ICD and swelling.

The nurse laughed, which made Castiel feel just a little jealous. The nurse was a good bit older than them, but, still seemed kind of flirty. She teased Dean, “I’m not trying to poison you. They’re for the pain, fever, and for your heart. We want to get you well as soon as we can so you can get back to school.”

Dean was still staring at the pills a little apprehensively, “Do I have to?” he sounded like a little kid.

Castiel nodded, “You want to get out of here right? Besides, I hear you have a hot date at the diner with a big plate of fries and an even bigger burger, and pie.” He winked. “For me?”

“Aw, baby, don’t tease,” Dean said, not even the least bit ashamed that they were obviously a couple. He took the pills. Anything to keep Castiel happy.

“Are you hungry?” the nurse asked with a smile, “It’s a little while before dinner, but I think we could manage something.”

“Can I have real food?”

“Now, Dean, a healthy diet is an important step to recovery. We can’t stop you from eating greasy food out there...but in here, let’s try something a little better for your heart, okay? How about some chicken noodle soup and crackers?”

Dean looked to Castiel pathetically.

Castiel’s face heated up. He hadn’t thought of that before. _Is that the reason Dean’s here now? Because I’ve been dragging him to the diner for greasy food and sugary desserts?_ He felt responsible, not to mention ashamed. “Please, Dean, for me?” he pleaded, “I want you to be healthy, baby.”

“Let’s just be honest,” Dean said, not finding the help he wanted from his boyfriend, “The second I leave here, no matter what anyone tells me, I’m going to go back to eating the same food I always do. Can someone please just bring me something decent? Burger, fries, nuggets, pancakes?” The words _I’d rather die than eat rabbit food_ came to mind, but, given the circumstances, he thought they might be a bit inappropriate.

“I’ll bring you a sandwich,” the nurse said, a little disheartened, “A healthy sandwich.”

“Fine…” Dean said, grumpily.

The second she left, he reached for the pie Bobby had brought him.

“Baby,” Castiel said a bit hesitantly, “I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“Cas…” Dean said, a bite of the pie already in his mouth, “I’ve been eating pie for forever.”

“And maybe that’s how you ended up here. I’m worried baby.”

“I know you are,” Dean said, swallowing his pie, “But I can’t just stop living life, Cas. C’mon, I can’t just lay in a bed in a hospital for the rest of my life not eating anything but rabbit food. That wouldn’t be any fun for either of us.”

“I know...just….take it easy. I plan on keeping you around for a good long while,” he smiled weakly.

The ECG machine attached to Dean that measured his heart rate beeped a few extra times, going up just a little at Castiel’s comment. Dean looked up at it, blushing.

Castiel’s smile widened, blushing back.

Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand, pulling him over again, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby,” he smiled, blushing just a bit more, and glancing back at the door as if the nurse might come back in at that moment.

“C’mere,” Dean smirked, motioning Castiel to come closer.

“Hmm?” Castiel asked, inching closer.

Dean grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him down and kissing his lips to the tune of the ECG’s more frequent beeps. Castiel gasped before sinking into their kiss.

Dean was smiling by the time they pulled apart, “How about you keep me around forever? I’m not ever gonna let you go.”

 

* * *

 

_January 6, 1999_

 

“Castiel,” Mrs. Novak whispered, shaking Castiel’s shoulder gently to wake him. The nurses had given up on trying to keep Cas and Dean apart, and had allowed Castiel the spare bed on the other side of Dean’s room, which was now right beside Dean’s, making basically one big bed.

“Mom? What time is it?” Castiel asked groggily, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“About seven,” she said, “I wanted to tell you the good news. The doctor said Dean can go home today.”

Castiel sat up, looking back at Dean to make sure he was still asleep, “Really? Are you serious?”

She nodded, with a smile,  “I was thinking it would probably be best if he stayed with us for a little while...Sam too. What do you think?”

Castiel climbed up from the hospital bed, wrapping his arms tight around his mom, “Thank you, mom. Thank you so much. He can really stay?”

She nodded once more, “But that doesn’t mean you don’t have to go to school. You and Sam will be going back to class, and Dean too when he’s ready. Homework gets done at the dinner table before you two go upstairs, and I expect you both in bed by eleven on school nights.”

“That’s fine...that’s all fine, mom,” Castiel was breathing sighs of relief, “When can we go?” He was really sick of the hospital. The feeling of dread hadn’t lifted.

“They said around noon. They want to have him walk around a little more and do a final test on his ICU, make sure he’s feeling ready to go. Said if he needs to stay another couple days, he can- but, knowing Dean, well...you know Dean,” she smiled. Even she was getting used to just how stubborn Dean Winchester could be, “So...I’d start packing your things now.”

Over the past couple of days, homework, clothes and books had found their way into the hospital room- not that Castiel wasn’t keeping the room tidy- but there was a lot to put away.

“Your dad’s going to pick up Sam early from school today, so that he can come home with us.”

Castiel nodded, already immersed in doing whatever he needed to do so that Dean could come home- the sooner, the better. He was going to get to take care of Dean, he wouldn’t have to spend his nights worrying if he was alright- and it would almost be like Dean was living with him. He wasn’t sure how long it was going to last, but was thankful regardless.

Sleeping with the leather jacket was great, but having his arms wrapped around the real Dean, knowing he was safe, was even better.

  


* * *

 

 

_Still January 6th, about 12:10 pm_

 

“I’m here to check out a patient,” Mrs. Novak said to the nursing staff.

“Name?” One of the nurses said.

“Dean Winchester,” Mrs. Novak replied, rustling through her purse for a pen in case she needed to fill out any more information.

“Mr. Winchester has already been checked out,” the nurse replied, a look of confusion on his face.

“What? By who?” Chuck was still at home, with Anna, and none of the boys could have done it.

“By me,” said a voice behind her. When Mrs. Novak turned around, she was greeted by a tall, bulky man, wearing an undershirt, plaid, and over that, a leather jacket, and jeans. His hands were in his pockets, but even the way he stood demanded respect. He had a beard starting to come in and dark hair. Even if he didn’t have the same facial shape as Dean, or the same clothing style- Mrs. Novak would have known who he was, “You must be John...Dean’s dad.”

“That’s right,” John said, taking a few more steps, “And you must be Alice. I just wanted to set the record straight. If you’ll excuse us,” he said handing the papers to the nurse before they stepped away, “No one tells me how to raise my boys.”

Mrs. Novak opened her mouth to respond, but John held his hand up, “I’m gone a lot, but they’re still my boys and they can hold their own. They’re good boys, both of them…”

“I never said that they…”

“No. But you did imply that I was a bad father. It’s not up to you...Alice....to decide what’s best for them. They mean more to me than you could imagine. So, I’ll do what’s best for them- maybe you should focus on doing the same for your kid. I’ve done research, and as far as I can tell, you don’t have room to lecture me on my parenting.”

A look of bitterness and shock came over Mrs. Novak’s soft features. She was shaking in anger.

“Glad we understand each other.” John said with a smile.

He walked through the door without another word.

 

* * *

 

 

Everything was packed and ready to go. Sam had even put away the Gameboy and was chatting with Dean and Castiel excitedly, ready to leave the hospital. Dean’s instructions, prescriptions and discharge papers were all in hand- and all of the accrued homework and dirty clothes had been packed into a bag and slung over either Castiel or Sam’s shoulder.

Dean couldn’t be happier- it was like he was going to get to stop worrying for awhile. Sam would be safe and warm with him at the Novak’s- he didn’t even have to worry about breakfast or cleaning-  just a bendable set of rules that came with the stay. It felt so good to be in his own clothes again, detached from all the beeping of the machines. He was sore, especially beginning to come off of the IV medicine...but it was pain, and he was used to it.

What he wasn’t used to, by any means, was dad actually being there, so it came as utter shock when Sam exclaimed, “Dad!” loudly, as a warning for Dean and Castiel.

Surely enough, when Dean looked up, he saw John Winchester standing there, all of 6’2, asserting a dominance that followed him everywhere and seemed to take up the entirety of the room.

Castiel’s hand fell off of Dean’s shoulder and he took a couple steps back. John Winchester wasn’t a literal monster, like he had pictured- but...in that moment, he was full of both fear, and fury. He was a scary guy, that looked like he’d seen battle, and was used to being in charge and wouldn’t take being less than in-control of any and everyone. That was the fear. The anger was different. It had taken Castiel one glance looking at the man in the doorway to put truth to the stories Dean had told, and also the ones he hadn’t.

Castiel was almost certain that some of those scars on Dean’s skin, and the black eye were from this man.

“What are you doing here, sir?” Sam asked, trying to fill the silence in the room.

 _Sir,_ Castiel thought, _Like a drill sergeant and not their father._

“What’s it look like?” John asked as though it wasn’t a legitimate question, “I’m here to take you boys home.” He looked at all the bags the boys were carrying, “You got enough stuff, son? You pack like a girl.”

Castiel flushed, but his mind was filling with panic and dread, _No! He can’t take Dean home. How am I supposed to take care of him? How am I even supposed to see him? No...no, you can’t- you’ll make it worse._

What came out instead was, “A lot of it’s mine, sir.”

John walked closer to them, beaming at the word ‘sir’ on a stranger’s tongue. He stared at Castiel for a moment, looking him up and down as though he were memorizing him, “So, you’re the Novak kid, the one that found Dean.” John’s hand went down on Castiel’s shoulder, a little rougher than Castiel was used to. “You saved my son’s life, good job, kid.”

He held out his hand to Castiel, who shook it loosely and nervously, which was met with a small frown from John. “Thank you, sir,” he said again, tired of explaining how it was actually his dad that had saved Dean.

“Well then,” John said, smiling, “Let’s get this show on the road, boys. We’ll go through the drive-thru on the way home, like we used to when you were little, Dean. Don’t think much has changed with that appetite.”

He took the bag from Castiel, and Dean didn’t say anything. Not a single word. Castiel’s insides were screaming. _No, no! He’s mine. You’re going to kill him. Dean, say something...do something. Anything. Please don’t leave me._ He felt like he was close to tears for what was most likely the hundredth time.

“Sounds good, sir.” Dean said, without missing a beat. Brave little soldier, terrified of his commanding officer. Castiel looked up. _Dean…_

He’d never seen Dean accept defeat. He kicked and punched and screamed. He broke all the rules without question, always did things his own way. Castiel had always been there with him, whether he was chastising Dean for breaking the rules, or bending them with him. But now...now Dean just felt too far away.

“All right, Mr. Winchester,” said the Head Nurse, the one that had been so flirty with Dean earlier. She actually wasn’t too bad in the long run. “Are we ready to go?” she smiled, pushing in a wheelchair, “Let’s get you out to the car.”

John frowned at the wheelchair, “He doesn’t need that, his legs aren’t broken. Come on, son, let’s get you home.”

He offered Dean his hand up, and let go once he was standing. Castiel noticed the little wobble. Dean was walking great when he was walking, but he still had a lot of medicine in his system, and the nurses had given him restrictions- like no driving, no heavy lifting, a better diet…

It was as if Castiel was watching as all these things walked out the door with John Winchester, past the wheelchair, and into some dark place that Castiel wasn’t a part of.

“Dean…” he said weakly as Sam followed behind John, Dean walking behind Sam.

“I’ll see you soon. It’s only for a little while…” he whispered, his pinky finger just slightly brushing against Castiel’s as he offered a weak smile. He’d said the same thing before he’d left for the hunt.

_It’s only for a little while._

Castiel’s heart broke nonetheless as he watched Dean walk out the door.

  


* * *

 

 

_January 8, 1999_

 

Without Dean, the couple days since they’d all left the hospital felt like weeks. He heard his mom talking about Dean’s dad, and worrying about him too, but, that was all he’d heard about Dean. He hadn’t been at school since then, and hadn’t called a single time.

Castiel tried to occupy his time with books, or studying, or even a game, but all he could think of was Dean, while he paced around his room nervously.

_Is he taking his medicine? Drinking plenty of fluids? Is he changing his bandages? Is he sleeping enough?_

The longer Castiel paced his room, left with nothing but his own thoughts and Dean’s leather jacket, the more he began to panic. _What if we’re...over? What if he doesn’t want to be with me anymore because his Dad’s home? What if he’s moving again? Maybe that’s why he hasn’t even called. He doesn’t want to hurt me…_

He picked up the cordless, holding it in his shaking hands, his finger hovering over the number five, Dean’s speed dial. He finally tossed it on the nightstand just as he’d done for the prior two nights, going to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He clicked the light off, going to the bed by memory instead of light. “Please,” he whispered softly, “Say we’re not over baby. Just say anything but that. I can handle anything else but that.”

“Over?” Dean asked, confused as Castiel slipped into bed, wrapping his arms around him, “Why would you think that?”

Castiel jumped so badly he nearly fell onto the floor, his heart pounding hard in his chest. “Dean? Dean! Dean, what are you doing here? I thought...I mean I wanted to call, but I was afraid I might get your Dad. I’ve been so worried about you. Are you okay? How are you feeling? When’s the last time you’ve changed your bandage? And your medicine, are you taking your medicine?”

Dean felt so guilty. He didn’t even have to look at Castiel under the glow of the stars to know that he’d been worried, over more than just the words he’d spoken. He’d wanted to sneak away sooner, but, something had Dad on his best behavior for those past couple of days.

They’d gone out to McDonalds, like Dad had promised, and gotten sub-par, greasy food- which tasted damn near better than anything Dean had ever had after a four day stay in the hospital. When they got home, dad actually turned on the TV and watched a rerun of the last football game, apparently the Dallas Cowboys at the Washington Redskins. He’d let Sam and Dean each have a beer, and then sent Sam to bed at a decent hour.

Once Sam had been in bed, it was down to business. Suddenly, Dean was trusted again, in the loop of some of the things Dad had been doing. John kept Dean up late, showing him new methods of questioning demons by means of torture, perfecting the exorcism...discussing means to destroy them. There were weapons that could do it; but, they were hard to come by, and neither John nor Dean were anywhere close to one.

Dad was suddenly _there_ for him- even going so far to check Dean’s bandages himself and ask him how football was going at school. It was something Dean had wanted from John since he was about six years old being dropped off at Bobby’s for the first time. Now...all he wanted was for things to go back to the way they had been.

It was two days before John finally slipped away into his routine drunken stupor, passed out on the couch and dead to the world, and Dean had finally been able to get away to Castiel without Dad asking questions.

Dean silenced Castiel with a soft kiss to the lips, tightening his arms around him and pulling him closer, “I’m fine,” he soothed, kissing him again.

“Fine?” Castiel asked, almost angrily, “That’s all you have to say? After everything? I was worried sick. I thought you…”

“You thought I what?” Dean asked, confused. There were a hundred things to fill in the blank with, and he wanted Castiel to answer so he could ease each one of those fears.

“That you were leaving me,” Castiel replied, tearing up, “Or worse, moving again and I’d never see you.”

“Hey,” Dean said, wiping away tears before they got a chance to fall, “I told you. If I ever had to leave, I’m coming back for you. Don’t you have any idea how much you mean to me? Don’t you know by now that I’m not going anywhere?” Dean paused, “I’m sorry. I...I haven’t told him. I can’t, Cas. I’m not ashamed of you...it’s just...he’s _Dad._ ” _I’m not ashamed of you. I’m ashamed of me. I can’t even be honest with my own father. I just let you sit here, hurt, because of me. Always because of me._ “He’s kind of been a pain in the ass these last couple days, and I guess your mom pissed him off somehow. I didn’t want to make things worse. I’m sorry. But...baby. The only way I’ll ever go is if you say you want me gone. Understand?” Dean pulled Castiel’s hand up, kissing each of his fingers gently. “I’m yours. Always yours.”

Castiel threw his arms around Dean, kissing him, unable to stay mad at him. “I just missed you so much, and I was so worried. I just wanted to make sure you were being taken care of. It should have been me, I should have been taking care of you.”

Dean couldn’t help a low, sexy laugh, “Are you...jealous? Of my dad?” he asked between kisses, trying to ignore the fleeting pain in his chest that came with embracing his loved one.

“No, I just...I wanted to be the one taking care of you, so I wouldn’t worry and so I could make sure you were actually being taken care of. That’s all.” He ran his fingers through Dean’s hair, before placing them just below the bandage, “What are your pain levels?”

“You can look, if you want, Cas,” Dean said, reaching beside him and turning on the bedside lamp. Dean was already undressed, ready for bed. His jeans and shirt were hanging over the computer chair. His hair had been cut, so it wasn’t hanging over his eyebrows anymore; but, he was still Dean, giving Cas a gentle look as he pulled the blankets a little down.

The bandage was done sloppily, indicating that Dean had done it himself, but it was new, most likely to sate Castiel. “I even brought my medicine, nurse, so you can make sure that I take it,” he smiled.

Castiel gave Dean a weak smile. “You did it yourself didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Dean grinned sheepishly, “Dad’s passed out on the couch, and Sam went over to Amber’s. But, I brought,” he started, digging under the bed for his football bag, setting out a new gauze bandage, and medical tape, as well as his medications, “Everything.”

“Baby!” Castiel scolded, realizing that not only had Dean climbed up the window again, but, that he also took his heavy bag with him, “What the Hell are you doing carrying that bag around? And...climbing up in my window?!?! Are you trying to kill yourself?”

“I carried it on the good arm,” Dean protested.

“And the window?” Castiel asked raising a skeptical eyebrow.

Dean smiled, unable to stop himself from laughing, “You sound like…” he blushed, the sentence coming out quickly as his face got more and more red, “...yousoundlikemyhusband.”

Castiel blushed and his voice made a squeak sound. He couldn’t speak...and he definitely couldn’t be mad now. _Dean just called me his husband. Did that really just happen? Am I dreaming?_

The very idea had been growing in his mind since Christmas, and hearing it out of Dean’s mouth sent butterflies swarming through his stomach.

“Am I forgiven?” Dean asked, burying his face into Castiel’s neck and kissing, before pulling back and unwinding the gauze that was over his incision, allowing Castiel to fuss over him.

Castiel’s answer was getting up and going to the bathroom for a damp washcloth. He removed Dean’s bandage, dabbing gently at the incision to clean the little bit of drainage. He was relieved to see that it was actually healing nicely and looked a lot better than it had at the hospital. “Promise me, Dean,” Castiel said, not looking up, still focused on the wound, “Promise me you’ll take it easy.”

He put a fresh bandage over the incision, happy with how it looked now.

Dean wasn’t sure what Castiel really wanted him to say. It was a promise that both of them knew he couldn’t keep. It wasn’t that he wanted to worry Cas by any means...but, there was danger out there. Taking it easy really wasn’t an option. “I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I ask,” Castiel smiled, kissing Dean’s cheek, “I don’t want to see you hurt again.” _Never again._  Castiel read the prescriptions carefully before handing Dean a few pills and a glass of water.

Dean forced the pills down before easing Castiel back into his arms. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay for long, but at least they had the night.

_It’s a lot to ask, Cas. More than you know. But,  I have a reason to try now. Something that’s mine...something to live for. I have you._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gasp! There is no songlist for this chapter.
> 
> But, I do have a lot of hugs for you all. Happiness to follow.  
> xoxo  
> 


	9. Wouldn't it be Nice?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, Dean! 
> 
> Dean and Castiel get the entire house to themselves for a weekend, getting a taste of what 'forever' might be like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, Dean!!
> 
> **Warnings for this Chapter:** Sexual Content, Sexual Innuendos & An obscene amount of fluff.
> 
> Whew.  
> Hey there guys. I was getting a little worried there that the chapter wouldn't make it in time! But, it's still Dean's birthday where I am, so here's the next chapter, as promised.  
> Yes, there really did need to be a warning for the obscene amount of fluff in this chapter. Basically, it's 26 pages of fluff (and a little smut, too). I thought Dean deserved a little break from the angst on his birthday, I hope you all agree.  
> Sorry I haven't been around as much lately, it's been a rough start to the New Year- but I'm doing my best. I hope you all are doing wonderful things, and your dreams are all coming true.  
> Remember that I'll never be more than a month without posting a new chapter. This one took almost the entire month, so thank you all for your patience, and understanding. It means so much to me.  
> The next chapter's going to be a lot darker (meep), and is a collaborative effort, so it may take a little bit to get it just right, so hang in there- it'll be worth it (and actually advance the plot, promise).  
> If you want, please leave me a comment. It means the world to me, especially right now. Thank you for your love, and for taking the time to enjoy my precious story.  
> So much Love.

 

* * *

* * *

 

_ January 22, 1999 _

 

Castiel had taken cooking classes with Mrs. Evans for two years, just like Dean. He knew all the conversions of cups, pints, and gallons. He knew how to make eggs and pizza and even chicken alfredo. But now, he stood in the kitchen, cookbook open, staring at a counter full of ingredients, unsure where to start.

Dean’s birthday was in two days, and it was Castiel’s mission to make things special. They hadn’t been seeing each other as much since Dean’s dad had come home- but had been squeezing in every moment that they could. Castiel was thrilled when Dean had called up a couple days prior to announce that his dad was going to be out of town for a little while on business.

It was convenient, really, because his parents were going out of town too. His dad was a doctor for a small clinic, but had been invited to a conference in Nebraska, so both his dad and mom were taking a weekend vacation- and even better, they’d given him permission to have Dean over, under the condition they kept the house picked up. Castiel was more than happy to oblige, and had started immediately working on Dean’s birthday plans.

He’d decided that he wanted to make Dean a homemade apple pie for his birthday- completely from scratch. It was Dean’s favorite. 

It was a great idea, in theory, however, the first pie came out with a burnt crust, and hardened apples. He frowned. He should have taken art class instead of cooking for this particular project. Pie was definitely an art form compared to adding sauce and toppings to a store bought pizza crust.

Castiel still had flour on his nose, wearing one of his mom’s aprons decorated with little apples,  as he called upstairs, “Mom?”

“Yeah, honey, what is it?”

“I know you’re leaving soon and you’re packing- but, could you help me with my pie...please? I already burned one And I don’t have time to go to the store again.”  _ Dean will be here soon. I told him to come by around six. _

“Of course, sweetheart,” Mrs. Novak said with a smile, descending the stairs. She was already dressed up for the conference, and had even worn her prized pearls for the occasion. Castiel was glad that they were having a little vacation. They deserved it after all that had been going on, and he was happy for them, and admittedly, for he and Dean as well. Anna was going over to her friend’s the entire time, so it would be almost like he and Dean had their own apartment. Just the two of them...that is. No one telling them what to do, they could watch whatever they want, kiss whenever they want. It was going to be great, and Castiel was determined to make it the best birthday Dean had ever had, not that he imagined the bar was set too high to begin with. 

It all started with the perfect pie. His mom was an expert. She helped him roll the dough, and instructed him how to chop the apples smaller, and simmer them longer. He insisted on doing all of the legwork, because it was a present for Dean; but, as always, his mom was great at giving him step by step instructions.

Castiel sat at the dinner table, working on another of Dean’s birthday presents, putting the finishing touches on it as the pie baked in the oven, filling the kitchen with the delicious smells of apples and cinnamon. His stomach growled in anticipation.

Mrs. Novak was going back and forth in the house nervously, like a Mother Hen, making sure that everything was set for their departure. “Behave yourselves while we’re gone, Castiel. There’s food in the fridge for you and Dean. If you manage to go through all of that while we’re gone, there’s money in the desk in your Dad’s office, and a couple frozen pizzas in the freezer, too.”

“We’ll be fine, mom,” Castiel smiled, looking up from his project.

“Come on, Alice, we need to get this show on the road,” Chuck said, smiling, and more dressed up than he usually ever was. “We don’t have anything to worry about. I don’t think Castiel’s going to throw any wild high school parties. Gotta leave the nest sometime, sweetheart. Just... don’t forget to shovel the drive if it snows, son...and, Dean’ll try, but don’t let him with his heart- he still needs to take it easy for a bit.”

Mrs. Novak grabbed her bags, and coat, hurriedly, “Anna will be gone all weekend, so you’ll have the house to yourself,” she reminded him.

“I got it, mom,” Castiel smiled, getting up and hugging her, kissing her cheek gently, “You and dad go have fun, you deserve the vacation. Dean and I can handle it.”

“Okay,” she looked up, still worried, with that persistent  _ ‘when did my baby grow up’  _ look on her face, “Don’t forget your pie, love. I set a timer for it. Let it cool for a couple hours,” she reminded him as Castiel hugged Chuck, too.

“Okay, mom. Thanks again for the help.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Be good. We’ll call when we get to the hotel so you have a number. If you need anything, call Grandma, oh! And if Sam wants to come over, that’s fine.”

“Come on, dear,” Chuck laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist and ushering her out as Castiel waved.

  
  


* * *

 

 

While the pie cooked, Castiel finished Dean’s birthday present, and wrapped the rest of them, before stashing them at the top of his closet in his room upstairs, rushing right back into the kitchen as the timer went off.

This time, the pie looked absolutely beautiful, and he breathed a sigh of relief, putting it on top of the refrigerator to cool, away from Dean’s line of sight. He lit a couple candles to mask the smell of Dean’s favorite snack. They were apple pie scented, which Castiel thought was a clever trick to play on Dean. Then, he picked up the phone and ordered a pizza for them, all meat and extra cheese- Dean’s favorite. He smiled, glad everything was going so well. 

He pulled  _ Con Air _ from his parent’s movie shelf, sure that Dean would enjoy it- it seemed right up his alley. Castiel never minded the action movies, even if they weren’t  _ Ever After _ . He just liked being cuddled up on the couch with his boyfriend. 

After everything was prepared, there was nothing left to do but wait for Dean. He went upstairs and double checked the presents, before heading back downstairs and checking the pie again. Castiel jumped when he heard the doorbell ring, but it was only the pizza man. He sat the pizza on the living room coffee table, worrying that it might get cold before he heard the doorbell again.This time it was Dean, and Castiel was so excited that he couldn’t throw the door open fast enough. He kissed Dean’s cheek.

“Hey, Dean,” he grinned, excited, almost like it was their first date all over again.

Dean couldn’t help but smile, wiping flour off of Castiel’s nose. He had completely forgotten to take off the apron, “Whatcha baking?” he teased, kissing Castiel, before closing the door behind him. “Should I be afraid?”

“No. No fear,” he said a bit nervously,  _ shit how did he know?  _ “I was just...helping my Mom with something before she left. Cookies for the retreat. You know my Mom.”

“Did you save any for me?”  _ God damn, he looks cute in that apron.  _

Dean placed his football bag down by the couch, grabbing the case to  _ Con Air _ and reading it over, before looking up at Cas, “I picked last time. If you want to watch something else, we can,” he smiled softly. Castiel always put Dean first. Castiel always put everyone first. It was one of the first things Dean had ever noticed about him.

“Sorry. Mom took them all, but I have pizza,” he pointed to the coffee table as he closed the door. He smiled back at Dean as he continued, “I thought you might like that one. It sounded right up your alley.” Castiel liked seeing Dean’s stuff in the house. It was like he was finally home. 

Dean felt much the same...more home in Castiel’s house than he did in the trailer, especially with dad home now. Sam was a rare sight to see, preferring to stay at Amber’s, while the continuous duty of caring for John while he was drunk fell to Dean. This was a breath of fresh air, and Dean longed for the day that he came home to a house like this, with Castiel in an apron, waiting for him with soft kisses and flour on his nose.

Thoughts of Castiel’s lack of baking capabilities came flooding back to his mind. So, okay, maybe not in an apron...but, his. Definitely his, waiting for him to come home with love in his heart. That was home. He leaned down to kiss Castiel, nuzzling gently against his nose.

Dean pulled Castiel against his chest, lifting him just a little off his feet and holding him close, “You spoil me.”

“Dean, Put me down,” Castiel squeaked. It wasn’t abnormal for Castiel to squirm and struggle at Dean’s intrusions of obnoxious cuddling or tickling, but, to Dean’s dissatisfaction, it was for a different reason now. “...I don’t want to hurt you.”

Dean frowned, “C’mon baby,” he coaxed, kissing Castiel’s lower lip, still holding him gently, “You know I can’t keep away from you.”

“I want to keep you, Dean, period,” he said, unable to show any unwelcome gestures to the kiss.

Dean was smiling now. Castiel could be furious with him (not that he ever was), but Dean could go in for a kiss, and Cas would kiss him right back. Dean conceded at last, putting Castiel down. “Hey, I’m not going anywhere. Except maybe to eat some of that pizza,” he said, opening the lid and groaning his appreciation at the obscene amount of cheese and meat, “God, baby, you really spoil me.” It went unspoken that  _ Con Air _ would last just about as long as the pizza, and any plot after would be lost to cuddling, and making out as it usually was.

Castiel had debated whether to get the pizza, or to heat up some of his mom’s leftovers for a healthy option for Dean. He wasn’t stupid enough to think that Dean’s food regiment had been anything other than burgers, fries, pizza, and beer anyway. “Yeah, I know I do,” he said, smiling weakly as Dean opened his arms, inviting Castiel into them as he picked up the remote.

Castiel nuzzled into Dean’s shoulder, kissing his cheek before reaching over and handing Dean a paper plate with three slices of pizza on it. “Do you want a Coke? We don’t have any beers,” he teased. 

“I’ll get them,” Dean replied, kissing Castiel’s cheek in return and getting up off the couch to the fridge without even contemplating how syrupy sweet they’d become. “Want anything else, babe?” he called from the kitchen.

“No thanks,” Castiel called, grabbing two slices for himself. He realized with some embarrassment that the apron was still on, and that’s what Dean had meant earlier. He folded it, hanging it over the side of the couch and pressing play on  _ Con Air _ as Dean sat down. 

“Hey, it looked really cute,” Dean winked, causing Castiel to blush more as they settled down on the couch.

A trailer for  _ Armageddon _ said coming soon to theaters, “That looks good. We should go see it some time.”

“Maybe,” Dean shrugged, inhaling half a slice of pizza in one bite. He didn’t really give it that much thought. They usually waited on movies to come out on VHS. The movie theater offered a lot less opportunity for subtle touches and loving glances. At home they could be themselves. And Dean could make a mean bowl of popcorn, if he did say so himself.

The pizza didn’t last long, but, instead of making out, Dean had pulled Castiel down into his arms, and had proceeded to begin trailing his fingers through Castiel’s hair. It hadn’t taken long before Castiel’s eyes were beginning to close, and he noticed himself drooling just a little on the leg of Dean’s jeans.

“You awake down there?” Dean teased as Nicholas Cage descended the plane to find his daughter’s prized bunny torn from it’s box.

_ “Put the bunny back in the box,”  _ Cage said, as Dean laughed.

“Yeah,” Castiel startled a little at Dean’s voice, as he quickly wiped the spit away from his lips, wiping it on his own shirt before lacing his fingers with Dean’s. “He actually kind of reminds me of you a little. I mean, not the criminal part or anything...but he’s brave like you. And besides, I’d hate to see what you’d do if someone took my bunny.” he smiled, sure that even over something so trivial as a stuffed animal, Dean would come out guns blazing and save the day, like some sort of badass movie hero.

Dean looked at him, utter seriousness on his face, as he replied in the same slow southern drawl Nicholas Cage donned for the movie, “ _ Nobody _ takes my bunny.” He reached out and tickled Castiel, who jumped up, now fully awake, before fighting back.

Dean was squirming as he fought for control, “...not ticklish…” he protested between bursts of uncontrollable laughter.

“You are too!” Castiel insisted, continuing his assault, admiring his boyfriend as he laughed. He felt so lucky to have someone like Dean, and to be the one to see behind the locked doors that he showed everyone else, beyond the leather jacket...and...well, under it, too.

Dean was beautiful. He was both the badass that no one messed with, and the boy his mom adored. He was leather jackets and ass-kicking, but he also held doors open, and held Castiel’s hand. He was understanding, and loving, and kind, even though he didn’t see it in himself. Castiel was sure that he had somehow managed to find the best boyfriend in the entire world. And now, seeing him laugh and smile, made Castiel smile, too. It was almost as though they hadn’t been in the hospital just a few weeks ago.

“I’m not ticklish,” Dean kept repeating, wrestling Castiel onto his back on the couch, atop the remote control which promptly began fast-forwarding the movie, “-I’m not. You...you though,” he said, tickling harder now that he had Cas pinned between himself, and the couch. He nuzzled into his loved one’s neck, kissing there, too, and tickling his cheek with his hair.

“Dean!” Castiel shrieked with laughter, “No fair! You’re stronger!”

Dean’s kisses went up, his tongue finding Castiel’s heartbeat on his neck as he began to suck lightly on exposed flesh.

Castiel’s laughs turned to sighs, fingers curling into the couch, “Dean,” he moaned, trying to remember why he was protesting. The pie! He was going to give him the pie while it was still somewhat warm. “W-w-wait...I have something for you. Let me get it.”

“We done with the movie?” Dean teased as the VHS rolled through the credits and came to a ‘click’ at the end. He didn’t care either way, this was always the best part of watching movies, and he wanted to hear more sounds from Castiel, who was already hard beneath him. Dean rocked his hips up at the friction.

“Yes..I mean no! I just...I have to...get something. Here. Let me...let me up. Please baby?” he pushed gently, reluctantly against Dean. He couldn’t help but let his head fall back into the pillows with the gentle thrusts of Dean’s hips. They hadn’t made love since Dean had been in the hospital. Castiel had been too worried of hurting him, but he could already tell that Dean’s intentions wouldn’t have him lasting the night.

“You don’t sound very convinced,” Dean purred against Castiel’s ear. He felt his body growing hotter at the thought of unbuttoning Castiel’s khaki’s, and taking him, right there in the middle of the house, not needing to cover his mouth to stifle the sounds falling from his lips.

Castiel’s fingernails raked up Dean’s back without so much as a thought, “I….ahh…” he tried to form words, his hips bucking under Dean’s, now painfully hard. He whimpered, “What if my parents forgot something? We...we can’t…”

“I’d imagine they’d walk right back out,” Dean teased, his fingers tracing down Castiel’s sides, before going up his shirt, running over the subtle muscles of his stomach and chest. He was shaking with anticipation already.

Castiel blushed at the thought of his parents walking into something less than chaste- and when he and Dean were together in the moment, it was anything but innocent. Castiel had a habit of leaving bites and bruises all along Dean’s collarbone where his own parents couldn’t see, and long scratches up his back. He knew that he was loud in bed. And...Dean...just the way Dean’s body moved on top of him was sin. “Dean…” he sighed, “We can’t…” he gripped into Dean’s muscles, before turning his head and kissing him.

The room was spinning by the time Dean finally let Castiel up, his hair a mess, his shirt wrinkled and crooked, and blue eyes blown wide with lust. Dean had finally agreed to let him get up, once Castiel wasn’t entirely sure the pie was of utmost importance anymore. 

He stood up, blushing at his tented cock in his pants, pawing it down as much as he could. “St...stay here,” he managed, before going to the kitchen.  _ God. When it’s like this all the time, how are we going to get anything done? Is that a thing? Can we just stay at home and make out all the time?  _

He cut a large piece of pie for Dean, putting it on one of his mom’s special china plates. He dug in the utility drawer until he found his mom’s stash of birthday candles, putting a sparkling one atop the pie as he scooped vanilla ice cream beside it. He struggled with the lighter a couple times before the candle finally lit and Castiel stood proud of his work. 

He took the pie carefully from the kitchen, “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Dean, Happy birthday to you,” Castiel sang softly, “Make a wish, baby.” 

Dean’s eyes were wide, a sign of genuine surprise, that softened into a blush and a smile. His life right now was better than he’d ever wished for to begin with, demons and dad, and health issues aside. He closed his eyes, only able to think of one thing in that moment:  _ Stay. Just like this. Stay. Stay with me on the 20th birthday candle, the 30th...the 60th when we can’t even count the years we’ve been together anymore. Stay here. Stay with me. Stay mine. Just...stay.  _

He blew out the candle with all the hope in his heart of the sixteen prior years of wishes that didn’t come true. It was about time one did...he held the wish with the hope of a child.

He took the pie from Castiel’s hands gently, before setting it aside. No one had ever made him a pie. Sam had gone to the Gas ‘N Sip and bought him a slice for the past couple years, and they’d played video games all night after; but, this one was homemade and full of love. He didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t the first time Castiel had rendered him speechless. He twisted his fingers into Castiel’s belt loops, pulling him gently into his lap, “Does this mean I can have you back now?” he said, kissing Castiel again, a silent thank you for everything.

“You have to try your pie,” Castiel insisted, “I...I made it. Well. Kind of. My mom helped. But I did all the work. Here, try it-” he reached over, still in Dean’s lap, scooping up some pie and ice cream and shoving it in Dean’s mouth.

Dean’s eyes closed, and his head fell back, moaning around the mouthful of pie as the delicious waves of apples and cinnamon and flaky, buttery crust overtook his senses. “Oh my god....” he groaned with approval.

“Is it good?” Castiel asked, somehow still uncertain of his own work.

“Here,” Dean offered, taking the spoon and scooping up another bite, this time feeding it to Cas. He missed by just a little, smearing pie filling and ice cream onto Castiel’s cheek. He couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“Hey!” Castiel said, dipping his finger into the pie on his cheek, and smearing it on Dean’s face.

Dean’s gaze lowered, as if to ask ‘are you really testing me’, and was met with widened blue eyes.

“Dean, no. No, no, no!” Castiel scrambled to reach for the plate; but he was slower than Dean who held it up in victory, dipping his finger into the ice cream and smearing it along Castiel’s nose, which wrinkled at the intrusion of the cold. “Dean, it’ll get on the couch.”

“No it won’t,” Dean said confidently, as his tongue flicked out, licking the ice cream that was dripping down Castiel’s nose. 

Castiel pulled away, nuzzling Dean’s nose against his own, making them both sticky in the process, “I’d like to cook for you more often,” he blurted out before he could stop himself, looking down with his cheeks red again.

Dean tilted Castiel’s chin up, smiling at him as he fed him another bite of pie, this time making it into his mouth, “I’d like that.”

“It’s actually pretty good,” Castiel said, swallowing with a small smile, “I’m glad.”

“You sound surprised,” Dean chuckled.

“Just a little,” Castiel admitted, not wanting to tell Dean about the first pie with the hard apples and the blackened crust.

 

* * *

  
  


By the time Dean was finished, he’d had two slices of pie on top of nearly half the pizza. To be fair, though, the second piece had brought them into an all out war. Dean had thought it clever to turn Castiel into his favorite dessert. There was ice cream in his hair, pie crust under the collar of his shirt; but, he was laughing.

Dean hadn’t escaped entirely...his cheeks were sticky from the ice cream.

When there was nothing remaining on the plate to be used as a weapon, Castiel fell to his knees on the floor, laughing, “Are you satisfied now?”

They’d ended up half-way up the stairs covered in pie before both of them gave up and kissing ensued. Now that they were both broken apart, cheeks red and sticky, and both panting, Castiel’s thoughts turned to the horror that there was pie and ice cream littering the living room floor, the couch, and halfway up the stairs.

“I am. Don’t worry, it’ll get cleaned up, come on,” Dean teased, pulling his own shirt off, and then Castiel’s, grabbing his hand as he undid the button of his own jeans and wiggled out of them on the floor, picking up clothes as he drug Castiel up the stairs, tossing them into a pile in front of Castiel’s door, but turning left instead, into Castiel’s parents’ room.

“Dean,” Castiel hissed in a whisper, immediately upon entering, “We can’t be in here...they’ll know.”

“They won’t know,” Dean assured, rolling his eyes as he sat Castiel down on his parents’ black and white comforter. 

The room was beautiful. Dean couldn’t imagine ever having the money to pay for a house like this. This room was twice the size of Castiel’s, which was easily twice the size of Dean’s. There was a window above the bed, the moon shining in, which made Dean smile. Looking around the room, there were tons of pictures of the happy Novak family, including, to Dean’s surprise, a picture of all of the kids at Christmas- including he and Sam. 

Dean continued, “I’m pretty good at this sneaking sort of thing. You’ll just have to trust me on this, okay?”

Castiel slowly nodded, even though he still looked worried, trying to make sure that no part of him that was covered in ice cream was touching the bed.

“Good,” Dean smiled, tracing his fingers along Castiel’s cheek, “Wait here, okay?”

“Dean…” Castiel protested again.

“Wait here,” Dean repeated simply, going back downstairs and returning with his football bag in tow, smiling at Castiel as he walked past him and closed the door to the bathroom, leaving Castiel confused as the water in the tub started running.

He sat in uncomfortable and nervous silence for nearly ten minutes before Dean’s voice called through the door, “Come here, Cas.”

Castiel got up, hand on the brass of the doorknob, realizing that there was a glow beneath the door, but the lights were off. As he pushed the door open, he gasped in surprise, greeted by candles in various degrees of melt, and scents, surely from Dean’s house.

There was music playing through two old and worn out computer speakers, attached to Dean’s old cassette player which was currently playing the song they’d danced to at Prom.

Dean sat in the two-person jetted tub, which had been filled with bubbles. On the side edge of the tub, by the nozzles were two plastic wine glasses, and a bottle of sparkling grape juice. Dean had obviously learned that Castiel didn’t care for the taste of alcohol, and had accommodated. At the base of the glasses sat a single blue rose.

“Dean,” Castiel breathed softly, in awe, “I...I don’t know what to say.” The candle’s fire danced in his eyes, reflecting off of the tears that were forming in them. He stepped closer, slipping out of his boxer-briefs and toeing them on top of Dean’s in a small heap on the floor. “This is beautiful.”  _ It’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever done for me. I love him so much.  _

He stepped in the water carefully, blushing at both the heat and the feel of Dean naked with him in the tub. It was incredibly sensual. There was something about it that was entirely different than being naked beneath blankets, mostly in the dark. 

Dean pulled him down gently into his arms, between his legs to where Castiel could lean back and relax. Dean took a washcloth, wiping the ice cream from Castiel’s face before pulling his glasses off and sitting them on the side of the tub.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for awhile,” Dean admitted, continuing to wash off ice cream, kissing the spots that he’d cleaned, “Since you told me about the bath. Figured since your parents are a state over, I wouldn’t have to fight you too hard for this.”

“I don’t deserve it,” Castiel said, his head resting on Dean’s shoulder, his fingers running up and down Dean’s legs, “Besides, it’s your birthday, I’m supposed to be spoiling you,” he smiled.

“To be honest,” Dean admitted, “I really didn’t even think about it.” He planted kisses on Castiel’s neck, wrapping his arms around his stomach, “And that’s bullshit. You deserve the world. I don’t know how you got stuck with me.”

_ I’d rather be stuck with you than with anyone else in the world.  _ “I have a weakness for side-by-side milkshakes.” He paused for a moment, but continued when Dean was silent, “You know,” he said, closing his eyes, “I’ve never actually used this tub before. I’ve always been afraid of getting in trouble. But, it’s nice,” he said, fingers running lightly over the bubbles, before scooping them up with a grin and putting them on his own chin, turning to face Dean in the tub, “What if I had a beard like my dad? Would you still love me?”

It was hard to picture Castiel with stubble, let alone a fully grown beard. He knew the answer, but pretended to contemplate in his head, “Hm…” he said.

“Dean!” Castiel protested, splashing him with water a little.

Dean smiled. Nothing could change how much he loved Castiel Novak, let alone a beard.  _ Don’t you know that by now? I want to be with you forever. Till we’re both old and gray. No matter what.  _ “Yeah, I’d still love ya, babe.”

Castiel grabbed more bubbles, putting them on Dean’s chin, testing them out, “I’d still love you too. But, it’s hard to picture you with a beard.”

“I’d look too much like my dad,” Dean agreed as Castiel cringed, wiping off the bubbles.

The song on the mixtape Dean had made was fading out to the next song.

“The Beatles?” Castiel asked as  _ I Wanna Hold Your Hand  _ began to play.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, taking the washcloth, beginning to wash Castiel gently, using it as an excuse to touch his skin, “This was the song playing in the car when we got out of the arcade. All I kept thinking about was actually holding your hand. Then, you made off with my leather jacket.”

Castiel blushed. The leather jacket was still in his room, on his bed. That jacket had symbolized so many parts of their relationship, and he was sure he would still have it even when one of them outgrew it, to remember the day that Dean had wrapped it around him, and the day Dean had told him he loved him.

“For someone that hates chick flicks,” Castiel teased, “You’re kind of sappy, you know that?” he kissed Dean’s cheek, closing his eyes as Dean began to sing.

As the song ended, Dean whispered in Castiel’s ear- “I love you.”

“I love you too, Dean,” Castiel said, with a smile, enjoying Dean’s caresses, and the sound of his voice, both smooth and rough at the same time. “And...I love this song,” Castiel said, joining in quietly to Elvis’  _ I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You.  _

Dean’s heart felt warm, love filling him to his very core, as he ran his fingers through Castiel’s hair, “ _ Take my hand...take my whole life, too. For I can’t help falling in love with you. _ ”

_ Shit _ , Dean thought to himself, his heart weighing heavily in his chest, butterflies swarming his stomach. He felt them fly to his throat as he realized that he was really happy, just here, in this bath, in a mid-sized suburban house with the boy he loved, taking a bath and singing oldies.  _ This is really it. I’m done. He’s….everything.  I’m going to spend the rest my life with him.  _

Before Castiel, Dean had never really had a reason to think to want to grow old and gray- it usually wasn’t in a hunter’s job description; but, now, as he listened to Castiel’s voice, slightly off-key, but still beautiful, he knew he’d do whatever it took to make their life together a reality. 

He’d completely forgotten that the next song he’d chosen for this mixtape was one that put words to his feelings, right in this moment. He smiled, drawing Castiel closer, “ _ I could stay awake just to hear you breathing. Watch you smile while you are sleeping. While you’re far away dreaming. I could spend my life in this sweet surrender. And just stay here lost in this moment forever. Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure.”  _

He could take every single moment that he spent with Castiel like this, and freeze them forever. He realized that shy of his singing, he’d been both quiet and still, so as the song peaked, he whipped out an air guitar, taking Castiel’s wet and bubbly hands into his own, bending down his fingers with the notes-

“ _ I don’t  want to miss one smile. I don’t want to miss one kiss. I just want to be with you right here with you, just like this. I just want to hold you close. Feel your heart so close to mine. And just stay lost in this moment for all the rest of time. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah!!!!!!!!!”  _

He wasn’t even ashamed when his voice cracked on the high note.

As the song faded, Dean sat up, grabbing the bottle of grape juice and pouring it into the two glasses, handing one to Castiel. At the start of the next song, Dean couldn’t help but laugh into the juice.

“What?” Castiel asked. The song sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

 

_ I can’t fight this feeling any longer, _

_ And yet I’m still afraid to let it flow… _

 

“Remember the day we went to the park? When I was talking to you in Study Hall and you told me to stop tapping my pencil?”

Castiel blushed, ashamed at how harsh he’d been to his now-boyfriend. “Yeah.”

“This is the song that I was tapping to.  _ And even as I wander, I’m keeping you in sight...you’re a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter’s night. And I’m getting closer than I ever thought I might- _ ” 

The air guitar gave way to an air drum before the chorus started.

“Dean,” Castiel said with a smile, realizing where he’d heard the song before, “You realize this song is the theme of like, a hundred chick flicks, right?”

“Shut u-” Dean started, but didn’t get to finish before Castiel’s arms wrapped around his neck and he straddled him, kissing his lips.

_Yep_ , Castiel thought _, Dean’s beautiful, and strong, and sweet, and sappy, and he’s mine...he’s all…_ ”Oh god, Dean,” Castiel moaned as Dean’s tongue pushed through his lips, strong arms wrapping around his waist _, Mine._

 

* * *

 

 

It had been so long since Castiel had let it go this far that he couldn’t even protest when Dean laid him back on his parents bed, both of them still covered in bubbles and water. Castiel’s body trembled at Dean’s every touch as his boyfriend kissed his lips, his neck, his chest, which was now heaving with excited breaths and soft sighs.

He ran his fingers lovingly through Dean’s hair, watching it spike up a little, still damp, which was sexy in that classic rock sort of way. “Please,” Castiel almost whimpered, running his fingers down Dean’s chest, his abs until they reached his cock, which was already mostly hard for him, “Dean...please, I need you.”

It wasn’t that Dean hadn't tried. Every time he’d managed to get away from the little trailer and into Castiel’s arms, he’d tried to touch him, to feel him like this. Castiel had always protested that it was too soon, and he wanted to let Dean’s scar heal. 

This time, it was Castiel who was eager. He knelt between Dean’s legs, wrapping his lips around Dean’s cock before he could even provide an answer.

“Fuck,” Dean groaned in one of his rare, appreciative noises that he made during sex. His hips arched forward, but this time, Castiel was slow and gentle, almost to the point of teasing. He managed to work Dean up over and over again, before slowing back down and letting the fire cool, before starting over again until Dean’s legs were actually shaking them both.

When Dean couldn’t take it anymore, he sat up, pulling Castiel back into his arms and falling back onto the bed with him, kissing him again and again until their lips were swelling and Castiel was moaning into his mouth. “Dean...oh, god...Dean...missed you so much.”

Their kisses could shatter worlds...they’d certainly sent Dean over the edge more than once, and the sounds that Castiel made commanded the attention of his entire body. He was sure now that his cock was wet enough that precome was dripping onto the sheets of the bed that didn’t belong to them. He rocked his hips up, grinding his cock against Castiel, who let out a breath.

“Please, Dean…” he whimpered, reaching between them to stroke his lover’s soaking cock, “God, you’re so wet, baby.”

Dean’s muscles tensed at Castiel’s words, causing a shiver to ripple through him as he traced his fingers through Castiel’s dark hair, moving his lips to his neck, soft breaths against his ear, as he took Castiel’s cock into his hand, stroking, before taking his own back in hand, and stroking them both, the friction setting him on fire.

Castiel collapsed on Dean, tilting his head so that his trembling lips could press against Dean’s again. Castiel had always considered the way they made love to be beautiful; but now, Dean had taken it up a notch, and Castiel never wanted to stop feeling like this.

Dean’s strokes were slow and long and soon they were sticking together, both of them rocking their hips to meet the other, licking into each other’s mouths, unable to stop something that felt so sinfully wonderful.

Dean finally pulled away when he felt the muscles in Castiel’s stomach start to jerk, knowing he was about to come. Instead, he flipped Castiel over, flat on his back, admiring how beautiful he looked-  absolutely perfect, no glasses, hair messy, face flushed in the dwindling candlelight  from the bathroom. He almost regretted flipping him over again, to where he was on his hands and shaking knees.

Castiel whimpered into the pillow at how long it was taking Dean to push into him, take him the rest of the way. It was sweet, and kind of sexy when Dean kissed his thighs, running his fingers up and down the spots that he kissed. He cried out in utter surprise when it was Dean’s tongue pressing between his cheeks, his body jerking back.

“DEAN!” Castiel attempted to protest, “You...You can’t...Dean...oh God...oh….” 

Castiel collapsed onto his stomach, and all Dean could think about in that moment was how goddamn beautiful his boyfriend looked laying there, precome dripping onto the sheets, body shaking, his ass tilted up at him just a little, inviting him for more

Dean’s hands pushed him apart and began licking him again, tongue exploring where it never had prior, unsure what he expected- but finding himself liking it- the taste of sweat, bath water, and heat emitting from Cas, not to mention the unholy sounds he was making.

He tested himself a little more, stiffening his tongue, and pushing it gently inside, causing Cas to whimper, rutting softly against the sheets until Dean’s arm snaked around his waist, wrapping his hand around his cock, and stroking with the rhythm he’d already begun to set into motion.

His own cock was soaked by the time he finally pulled away, rolling Castiel back over and slicking his own fingers with spit before giving Castiel a few test strokes. He was tighter than normal, Dean noticed, as he pushed his cock gently into into his loved one, who cried out, with each stroke, digging his nails into Dean’s shoulders and back as he bottomed out.

Castiel buried his face into the crook of Dean’s shoulder, kissing there, running his fingers lovingly over Dean’s body and through his hair. “Dean,” he breathed, shaking from Dean’s slow thrusts, “Dean, I’m so close….” he panted into Dean’s ear.

Dean was lost in the moment, beads of sweat pouring from his face as he pulled back, “I’ve got you,” he assured, placing Castiel’s legs over his shoulders and pushing further inside him. “Gonna take you all the way, baby, I’ve got you.” His hand wrapped around Castiel again, stroking slow, thumb running over the underside of Castiel’s cock.

Castiel’s arms wrapped around Dean’s neck, as he worked tirelessly to arch his hips in the new position. It felt so good that it caught him a little off guard when he came, lunging the rest of the way against Dean. “Dean- Dean! Oh god…Oh…oh god!” 

Dean’s body came crashing down on Castiel as he forced thrusts even though Castiel was so tight he could barely move inside him. He grabbed onto the headboard, trying to steady himself as his own orgasm ripped through him, and he found himself moaning into Cas’ ear, “Fuck, Cas...Castiel…Baby….” he said, coming down from his high slowly, “I love you...I love you so much.”

Castiel’s face was still flushed with passion as he looked up at Dean, “I love you too, Dean,” he said, stroking his cheek. “More than anything in the world.”

 

* * *

 

  
  


They ended up back in the bath, with Dean cleaning them both up, Castiel’s legs still shaking so badly that his arms were wrapped around Dean for support as Dean used the shower head to rinse them off. 

Dean was relieved that the only mess they’d made on Mr. and Mrs. Novak’s bed was on the sheets...so while Castiel soaked in the tub a little longer, he stripped the sheets, throwing them immediately into the wash. He brushed his teeth in the bathroom upstairs, and by the time he came back down, Castiel had already curled into bed again, so tired that he hadn’t thought to go back to his own room.

Dean blew out the candles and grabbed the grape juice, taking a swig out of the bottle before laying back, his hair spiky from lack of attention as he pulled Castiel onto his chest with a smirk.

“What is it?” Castiel asked, tracing circles and letters onto Dean’s chest, careful to avoid the scar above his heart.

Dean pointed up to the skylight above them, “We still have our stars,” he grinned.

Castiel couldn’t help but laugh a little, “Yep, we sure do. They’re beautiful.”

“Hey, Cas?”

“Yeah, Dean?” Castiel asked.

“Do you remember when we first met? When you asked me what I wanted to be?”

Castiel nodded, curling his fingers into Dean’s chest, remembering his horrid reply of ‘nothing’.

“I figured it out.”

“Yeah?” Castiel asked, smiling, “What do you want to be?”

“Yours, Cas. I want to be yours.”

 

* * *

 

 

_ January 23, 1999 _

 

Castiel found himself a little dazed upon waking up, before guilt came crashing down on him as he realized he was in his parent’s bed.  _ It’s all right, _ he told himself, taking a deep breath,  _ It’ll be cleaned up before they get home...like it never happened. _

The same couldn’t be said for his body, which had a dull ache. He wiped the drool from his face, before scooting farther on the large bed, searching for Dean’s warmth. He rolled over to discover he was completely alone in bed, save for a note on Dean’s pillow with the blue rose from last night. Castiel felt his heart sink, wondering if Dean had left with his dad again. His heart wasn’t ready for that sort of pain, and neither was Dean’s.

 

_ Good morning, Sunshine, _

_ Come downstairs and keep me company while I make breakfast? I suppose if you’re still sleeping, I could just tickle you awake. Your choice. _

 

_ Love Always. _

 

Castiel was smiling as he climbed out of bed, pulling on his boxers. He meant to grab his shirt, but grabbed Dean’s Led Zeppelin shirt instead. He shrugged, tugging it on and grabbing his glasses off the nightstand before opening the door.

His nostrils were immediately overwhelmed with the delicious smells of bacon and fried potatoes, as well as something sweet. His stomach growled in response. He didn’t realize how hungry he was, and this smelled just as good as his mom’s cooking.

He was surprised to find the mess of the pie already clean, and Dean in the kitchen, cracking eggs into a pan while another sizzled with bacon, and a heap of pancakes sat off to the side with some diced and fried potatoes.

Zeppelin blared in his mom’s kitchen CD player, and Dean jumped a little when Cas’ arms wrapped around him, before his slid over Cas’ in response, “Good morning, sunshine,” he said, turning around and kissing Castiel’s forehead.

“Morning, baby,” Castiel said, leaning up just a little to kiss Dean’s cheek, “You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Least I could do after you made me a pie,” Dean replied, flipping the eggs in the pan.

“Anything I can help with?”

Dean turned the volume down, “I’ve got it, baby,” he said, beginning to set the table, opening the fridge, “Almost done.”

Castiel was more than impressed as Dean sat plates and drinks down on the table. Dean had remembered everything, and that was saying something. He’d remembered that he didn’t like ketchup on his fried potatoes, he liked his bacon bordering on the side of burnt, eggs over medium with lots of pepper, and two pieces of toast, one with strawberry jelly and one with honey. He’d even brought out milk  _ and _ orange juice, and kept the syrup on the side of Castiel’s pancakes.

“I love you,” Castiel said, staring at his plate, “God, Dean, you know me so well.”

“Like, how picky you are?” Dean teased.

Castiel frowned, cutting into his pancakes, “I’m not that picky. Am I?”

“Oh yeah,” Dean nodded with a mouthful of bacon. It was kind of nice that he wasn’t fighting Sam off for the bacon, even though he wouldn’t trade his little brother for anything in the world on most days. “You definitely are.”

 

* * *

 

 

After breakfast, they decided to watch Saturday morning cartoons, a regular thing for Dean, but not for Castiel. Castiel curled up on Dean’s lap, smiling and enjoying the moment. He didn’t remember falling asleep, or for that matter who the villain on Batman had been, but the TV was silent now, and he was alone in the dark. 

He sat up too quickly, a dull ache in the back of his neck from sleeping on the couch. He wiped drool from the side of his face as he realized his head was brushing against a blanket.

He only looked confused for a moment, until he found his glasses sitting on the coffee table, and realized that all four ‘walls’ around him were different blankets. His comforter was one, Anna’s sheet another, some of the blankets from the closet. “Dean?” he asked, confused.

“I’m here, babe,” Dean said, obviously out of Castiel’s reach.

“Here, where?” he groaned, still a little discombobulated from sleep.

Then, there was a laugh, “You’ll just have to come and find me.”

Castiel rolled off the couch, unable to stand in the blanket tent. He crawled on his knees to his own comforter, moving the corner of the blanket and crawling through, only to find himself in another blanket room with four walls.

Once, when he and Dean had been up half the night with their long talks, Dean had bragged about his blanket fort mastery. He and Sam had used to make them just to keep Sam entertained and happy wherever they were. Castiel had thought it a sweet gesture, and had imagined the blanket forts then, but this was not what he imagined. “Marco,” he called, a little frustrated to find this upon waking up, but also amazed. “Dean?”

“Polo,” Dean mimicked, his voice further away than it had been before.

“Dean...I can’t find you…” he realized his arm was resting on the rail of the stairs, and the stairs themselves were a long tunnel, “Jesus, does this thing ever end?”

“C’mon,” Dean said, directly behind him, dragging him into his arms and kissing him, “You’d be amazed at how hard you sleep. Up,” he pointed up, and began to follow Castiel up the stairs, crawling behind him, only to find more blankets at the top.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Castiel admitted, turning around at the top of the stairs.

“I know, but you were tired, it’s okay. It’s almost noon now,” Dean shrugged.

Castiel’s heart deflated, he’d wanted to spend most of the day celebrating Dean’s birthday- watching movies, or playing games, maybe even going out to the arcade. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“No reason to be sorry,” Dean smiled, ruffling his hair, “Go through that one,” he pointed at a blanket, “I had fun building it. I haven’t made a blanket fort in ages, let alone one this big.”

As Castiel went through another blanket, he stood up, finally out of the fort, seeing that Dean’s blanket fort extended to the doors of every room upstairs, and as far as the eye could see downstairs, sparing the kitchen, “I’ve never seen anything like this,” he admitted, pecking Dean’s cheek as he joined him on their little balcony, “Did you use every blanket in the house?”

“Every blanket I could find,” Dean said with a victorious grin.

“I bet Sam would be in heaven.”

“Yeah, he’s always loved these things. But now he’d probably just stay on the couch and play Pokemon until he got hungry.” Dean’s stomach did a twist at the thought that one day, he could have a little one to build blanket forts for. He wasn’t sure how...maybe adoption someday, but the thought made his heart swell. He loved kids. His fondest memories other than Cas were those of being Sam’s hero, and doing everything it took to stay in hero-status, blanket forts included. “Anyway,” Dean continued, realizing that he had been silent for too long, “What do you want to do today, beautiful?” He leaned against the wall, pulling Castiel into his arms and kissing him, “Whatever you want.”

“Maybe we can finish the movie, or play some games?” Castiel suggested, “It’s your birthday, so, whatever you want.”

“Well, I was thinking of cooking dinner tonight, so, would you mind if we hit the grocery store first?”

Castiel frowned. He’d already had the idea. It was in his extensive list of birthday plans. He scoffed, “I was gonna make you dinner later tonight, baby. You can’t cook on your birthday.”

“Birthday’s not ‘till tomorrow,” Dean quipped back. Even the thought of Castiel in that cute little apron again wasn’t enough to budge him on the subject. He’d been wanting to cook for Castiel before prom. Breakfast didn’t count. He’d been thinking about it before he’d managed to succumb to sleep the night prior, his heart full of happiness at the prospect of a future.

“Dean,” Castiel sighed, thinking of all the times different people had told him not to fight with a Winchester. “How about this, baby?” he conceded, “I’ll make you dinner tonight, and you can make dinner tomorrow if you want to. My mom made food before she left. No meatloaf,” he smiled.

Dean looked skeptical still, but didn’t open his mouth to argue.

“Please, baby? We’ll celebrate your birthday tonight since my parents will come back late tomorrow, and I don’t want you to worry about anything. We can both get what we need at the store, and I have money- my parents left it.”

“Don’t worry about the money,” Dean finally agreed, “I have enough, just need to swing by the house. I guess we should probably get ready, then,” he kissed the top of Castiel’s head, drawing him in closer, marvelling at his blanket fort.  _ It’s a shame I can’t build an actual home for the two of us out of blankets.  _ “But, I should probably put all the blankets back first...?”

Castiel nodded, laughing, “The clean up isn’t as fun, hm? But, I’ll help.”

 

* * *

 

 

Together, they spent almost an hour tearing the blanket fort down, righting chairs, folding blankets, or making beds. It wasn’t so bad, as most things weren’t, because they were together.

Finally, they finished making Castiel’s bed, and Castiel looked out onto the balcony of the stairs, impressed that only an hour before, there had been a blanket fort encasing the whole house. He couldn’t help but laugh at the crazy things he and Dean had already done this weekend, none of which his parents would even know.

Dean was right, he was good at breaking rules- and it was so...fun. 

When Dean emerged from Castiel’s room, he was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, hair combed out of the spikes that Castiel had been playing with since last night. He handed Castiel a pair of jeans, which he slipped on, before going to grab Dean’s leather jacket out of his room.

When Dean turned around, he whistled low, “Damn.” He always liked Castiel in jeans, they gripped his ass, and made Dean want to do the same. This time, it was even sexier, because Castiel still had messy hair from both sleep and sex, and was still in Dean’s favorite Zeppelin shirt, and his leather jacket. The look alone made Dean’s cock grow a little hard.

Castiel was oblivious to the fact, looking a little perplexed at Dean’s admiration, and even more confused when Dean wrestled the knotted bracelet off of his own wrist and tied it around Castiel’s, faintly blushing at such a cliche notion.

“Dean, why are you giving me your bracelet?”

_ Because I can’t give you a ring. Not yet. And even if I can’t tell the world, I want them to know you’re mine.  _ The notion that someone might see them and know that they were a couple had long since stopped being an issue for Dean, unless that someone, of course, was his dad. “Want you to keep it. Besides, it matches the rest of you.”

Castiel glanced down and realization sank in. He smiled. “Oh god, are we one of  _ those  _ couples now?” he laughed, twisting the bracelet around his wrist, realizing that maybe they’d been one of those couples the entire time. 

“Would you really care if we were?” Dean said, his voice low, as he pressed against his boyfriend, kissing him, arms wrapping around him.

“No, not really,” he said, blushing slightly,  _ I just love being yours _ .

 

* * *

 

 

 

They’d picked one of those shopping carts that clanked every time a wheel turned, and it grated on Dean’s nerves; but, Castiel didn’t even seem to notice as he meticulously marked down items on a grocery list. He’d grabbed vanilla ice cream, a gallon of milk, some cheese slices, hamburger meat and a couple different seasonings.

Dean, however, had been a man on a mission, and had grabbed a basket, escaping the sounds of the clattering cart, returning with fresh herbs, garlic, pasta noodles, canned tomatoes, breadcrumbs and mozzarella cheese, “How’s it going, baby?” he asked, dumping everything into the cart. He was happy today, with almost a literal spring in his step, forgetting entirely that their relationship was a secret.

Castiel cringed. He’d had everything organized in the cart, and immediately started moving everything, “Dean, don’t just...you can’t put meat on top of the canned goods. And it goes in a bag,” Castiel said, pointing at the meat bags, blushing profusely at being called ‘baby’ in public.

Dean grabbed the meat bags, not finding it worth argument. Castiel squinted at the list he’d made, as Dean shoved the chicken cutlets in a bag, carefully locating the hamburger in the cart, and placing the chicken next to that instead.

“Almost done,” Castiel told him once he looked back up, “I just need lettuce, tomato, cherries, and green beans.” 

Dean reached around Castiel, his arm basically around him, as he grabbed a can of green beans, handing them to Cas, and whispering in his ear, “I really want to kiss you.”

Castiel’s face brightened, “Dean!” he said, shocked, actually dropping the green beans into the cart, “We’re-we’re in the middle of the store...we...can’t.”

“Raincheck? I’ll kiss you when we’re home, or maybe in the car, depends on how long I can wait.”

“God,” Castiel breathed, trying to stay quiet, looking around to see if there were people around to hear. When there weren’t, he put his hand over Dean’s on the cart, “I really want to kiss you, too.”

They kept brushing hands whenever they could as they finished up Castiel’s grocery list and headed to the checkout. Dean grabbed them a couple cokes to conclude their shopping adventure, handing them to the cashier as he went to the end to bag the groceries.

When Castiel looked up, he was relieved to see a boy cashier. Girls flirted with Dean all the time, and it made him jealous, or at the very least uncomfortable. They never seemed to notice Dean shutting them down, so, ‘Tyler’ was a welcome sight.

Castiel always read name tags, to personalize the experience a little more. He didn’t imagine many people were nice to the cashiers, and his mom had done it for a little while, so he always tried to be, as Dean called it, a ray of sunshine.

“Hey there,” Tyler said, smiling, “How are you doing today?”

Dean assessed Tyler. He immediately noticed the blue studs in his ears, and the fingernail polish to match. His hair was bleached blonde and his blue eyes were fixated on his boyfriend. He began bagging a little more aggressively, eyes like a hunter’s trained on Tyler even after just a handful of courteous words. He knew that look. It was the one that he used to stare into the back of Castiel’s head in class.

“I’m doing well, Tyler. Yourself?” Castiel smiled as he finished loading the conveyor belt.

“Another day in paradise,” Tyler winked, “I can’t complain. Looks like someone’s cooking up something good tonight. You’re the cook, aren’t you? I can tell,” he smiled at Castiel.

“I...well...I am tonight, but usually it’s my mom that cooks.”

“I bet it’ll turn out great. You could cook for me any time.”

The flirty comment went right over Castiel’s head, but Dean had definitely taken notice, and couldn’t help feeling a little intimidated by the balls that ‘Tyler’ had. He was so open about everything- his sexuality, and his feelings, blatantly hitting on his boyfriend right in front of him. His stomach churned uneasily as he shoved the rest of the produce in a bag.

Castiel looked worried as he fumbled for his wallet, reading the total price of nearly fifty dollars. He had no idea that it was going to cost that much.

Dean’s worry had nothing to do with the price. He was beyond caring who saw them as his arm snaked around Castiel, smiling as he whispered in his ear, “I told you not to worry. I’ve got it, babe.”

He handed Tyler sixty in cash, looking him dead in the eye, “Yep, I’m a lucky guy. He’s a real Betty Crocker.”

Castiel’s heart fluttered at Dean’s embrace, and he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. 

“You’re definitely a lucky guy,” Tyler replied with a nod, as if to say he meant no offense.

_ I am lucky. I know I’m lucky.  _ Dean’s heart was beating hard, and he felt anger and jealousy swelling in him. He’d never witnessed someone flirting with Cas, who usually kept to himself, and he didn’t like it.  _ Come hell or high water, I’m not going to let anyone….or, any thing,  _ he amended _ , take him away from me. _

Dean’s mood lightened when they got outside, walking towards the car. He grinned, “Hey, Cas, hop on,” he said, stepping away from the grocery cart.

Instead of protesting, Castiel hopped right on the end of the cart and Dean broke into a sprint. When Dean hopped on the cart too, Castiel panicked a bit. 

“Dean! What are you doing?” 

“Flying.”

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel had booted Dean out of the kitchen, making him play video games while he prepared dinner. He was already nervous, and having Dean around would only distract him, or make him worry more. He’d never cooked a dinner like his mom. He’d helped her a few times in the kitchen with simple tasks of peeling vegetables, or chopping up meat in a pan for chili. She’d called him her sous chef, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for the upgrade. He didn’t voice any of those concerns to Dean, however, as he focused now on the task at hand, donning the apple-printed apron again.

He preheated the oven, and salted the pre-made fries with seasoning salt before heating some oil in the frying pan. He put together two of the biggest hamburger patties he’d ever seen and set them in the pan with some onion and seasoning, putting a lid on them, and washing his hands thoroughly, hating the feel of the raw meat between his fingers.

Then, he set to work on the green beans, then chopping the lettuce and tomato, which took considerably more effort than he’d thought. 

He’d gotten so busy with his prep work that as he began blending milkshakes, he didn’t notice the smoke in the kitchen. He jumped, his heart pounding hard in his chest when the fire alarm began to sound, looking around helplessly at the smoke cloud by the stove. He pulled the hamburgers off the burner, and the fries out of the oven.

There was no salvaging the fries, which were little charcoal bits now. He looked to the hamburger, trying to scrape off the char and see if he could keep going, but found the meat black on the outside, and completely raw on the inside. He began to cry as Dean charged into the kitchen, assessing the situation.

Seeing that Castiel was mostly all right, he opened the back door, fanning out the smoke with an oven mitt.

Castiel’s sadness turned to anger with himself at the sight of Dean, and the tears began to fall harder,  _ Damn it, damn it! I always do this. I always fuck everything up. Now I’ve ruined Dean’s birthday. I can’t even make a stupid burger right. What the hell is wrong with me? I hate myself.  _

“Baby,” Dean said, coming over to Castiel again as the smoke alarm died, “Come here,” he motioned, turning the green beans down on the stove just a little before ushering Castiel into his arms, “It’s all right.”

He tried to grab one of the charcoaled french fries, but before he could bring it to his lips, Castiel knocked it out of his hand, “Dean, no!”

“Hey, it’s...it’s all right…”

Dean knew there was no fixing the hamburgers, or he would have offered to eat it anyway. Dad’s cooking wasn’t exactly great sometimes, either, but he’d choke it down.

Castiel sobbed into Dean’s chest, “No it’s not, Dean, it’s not alright. I ruined everything, and I wasted your money, and I ruined your birthday…”

“Ruined my birthday?” Dean tilted Castiel’s head up, brushing the tears away from his cheeks, “Cas, this is the best birthday I’ve ever had. So what if dinner’s a little extra crispy? I still love you. And hey, the green beans and milkshakes look great,” he smiled. 

“You’re just saying that to be nice.”

“No, I’m not, I mean it,” Dean said, kissing more tears away, “Besides, Cas, we’re in it for the long haul, right? Not everything we do is gonna be perfect. But, you’re perfect for me, understand? Just the way you are. And you’ll get better at cooking. The first time I made a burger, I had it in pieces just to get it to cook all the way through.”  
“Really?” Castiel sniffled.

“Yeah,” Dean smiled, “And don’t get me started on bacon and pancakes.”

Castiel smiled a little, and Dean continued, grabbing another of Mrs. Novak’s aprons and putting it on...this one with tiny cupcakes, and pink trim. “Here, why don’t you help me cook? We’ll do it together, sound good?”

He was met with an unexpected kiss from Castiel, “I really do love you. Like, a lot.”

“I know. I love you, too.”

 

* * *

 

 

Dean cleared away the mess, tossing the hamburgers and fries in the trash and getting a load in the dishwasher started, as Castiel scooped their milkshakes into some of Mrs. Novak’s tall glasses. He put whipped cream and a cherry on top, and was satisfied with how it looked, and even more pleasantly surprised when they tasted good, too.

Dean had turned on their favorite oldies station while he began to get everything prepped- to cook. It was kind of amazing to watch him work. He was truly in the zone, doing something that he loved to do, something he was good at.

As he turned to grab ingredients from the fridge, Castiel bumped into him, milkshake in hand, getting whipped cream on his nose. Castiel laughed, “I guess that’s payback for last night.” 

“Mm, I wouldn’t mind a repeat of last night,” Dean said, nuzzling his nose right back against Castiel’s.

Castiel shivered and it had nothing to do with the whipped cream. “Me too,” he whispered breathlessly. 

Dean pressed him against the fridge, carefully setting down the egg carton he’d retrieved, before pressing his lips to Castiel’s, hands on his loved one’s hips. He pulled away after a few seconds and whispered into Castiel’s ear,“If you keep that up, we might not eat tonight,”

“I could live,” Castiel whispered, “Besides, I’d still be eating. Just not food.” He licked his lips. 

It was a tempting offer for Dean, especially with last night being the first time they’d made love since his trip to the hospital, the noises Castiel had been making, and the way they fit perfectly together- but, Dean had been planning this even longer, and wanted to do this for his loved one- make him dinner with his own two hands. He groaned, “Baby….stop teasing.”

“You teased first,” Castiel pointed out, pouting. “Alright, alright. What do you want me to help with? Or...do you just want me to keep out of your way?” 

“You can help,” Dean smiled, knowing that Castiel still felt bad about dinner, not wanting to make him feel useless, “You can set up the prepping stations,” he pointed at the bowls. “First one, two whisked eggs and a tablespoon of butter. Second one, half breadcrumbs, half parmesan.” 

It actually really helped a lot, Dean noticed as he cut the large chicken breasts into two pieces, making them thinner so they’d cook quicker. Everything they did, it seemed in the end was better, together. “We can actually use the lettuce and make a salad,” Dean smiled, dancing around Castiel to make use of the prepping stations. 

They ate the milkshakes while they cooked. They really were delicious, and somehow tasted even better being eaten before dinner without anyone there to chastise them. 

Once the chicken was breaded, and in the oven, Castiel’s green beans simmering in a pool of garlic butter over low heat to keep warm, the lettuce and tomato was chopped into smaller bits for the salad, and the noodles were in a pot of water, there wasn’t much left to do but wait. 

Dean turned up the volume of the music to a familiar old song, one that his mom used to like a lot. He grabbed Castiel’s hand, and twirled him into his arms. “ _ All the leaves are brown _ ,” he started, “ _ And the sky is gray _ …”

Castiel laughed a bit, before putting his head on Dean’s shoulder and swaying to the music, repeating the lyrics back as it did in the song.

Dean’s dancing was getting much better. He wasn’t looking at his feet anymore to avoid stepping on toes, although it still happened occasionally. He leaned out of the dancing to stir the noodles, before coming back to Castiel. “ _ -Stopped into a church, I passed along the way. Well, I got down on my knees…” _

_ “Got down on my knees,” _ Castiel echoed, giggling at the insinuation.

“ _ And I pretend to pray. You know the preacher likes the cold. He knows I’m gonna stay. California dreamin’, on such a winter’s day.” _ Dean spun Castiel again, coming together even closer.

“California sounds nice. Way better than all this snow. God, I haven’t been to the beach since I was at my grandparents house last summer. They live in  Florida.” 

“I’ve never been,” Dean admitted, “To the beach.” They were steadily swaying to the music, Dean warm against Castiel.

“We have to go sometime. You’ll love it,” Castiel smiled. 

“I’d like that, baby,” Dean smiled as the song changed over, thoughts already rampant in his mind.  _ California dreaming. One day...I’ll take you there. I promise. _

 

* * *

 

 

Dinner finished without any major missteps, a meal that even Dean was proud of. He let Castiel sit down as the timer went off, finishing the preparation himself.  He poured Castiel’s coke into another of the wine glasses, on the rocks, and sat it down. He used the good plates to pile spaghetti noodles and a homemade sauce onto, setting a chicken cutlet on top, mozzarella oozing down the sides. He’d even made garlic bread...well, sort of. It was the same kind he’d made Sammy in the past, just pieces of white bread, buttered and seasoned with garlic powder, set to broil for about a minute. Castiel got a salad, each got a small bowl of green beans, and Dean finally sat down, “I’ve been wanting to do this for you for awhile,” he admitted.

He wondered when exactly Castiel had made him the star of the chick flick that was his life. All of these sappy cliches, all of these tiny moments, made him happier than he ever dreamed he could be. He didn’t really care if he got teased for it...he figured at this point, it would just go on...forever, and ‘forever’ would definitely be a nice change to ‘temporary’.

“Well, I’m glad you finally got the chance,” he smiled, clinking his wine glass to Dean’s. “My parents should be gone away more often.” He couldn’t help but laugh a little, “You really didn’t have to eat the green beans. They look so silly with all this Italian food.” 

“They’re delicious actually,” Dean said, his mouth full with the green beans, truly meaning the words, which was surprising, considering he normally didn’t ‘do’ vegetation. Castiel had been making him eat more vegetables and fruits since the hospital. 

“Cas,” he said softly as he swallowed the green beans, “I really meant what I said last night. I don’t know how I’m going to do it...or, if it’ll be anything like this” he gestured around the kitchen, “...but...I know that I want you there with me. I’m sorry if that’s too soon. I’m really not a good judge of that type of thing...it’s just…”

“No,” Castiel shook his head, “It’s not too early. I know exactly what you mean. I..I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to spend forever with you.” 

Castiel raised his wine glass again, waiting til Dean did the same. “To us,” he smiled. 

Dean got up, going to Castiel and wrapping his arm around his shoulders, clinking the glass together as he kissed his loved one’s cheek, smiling, “To us.”

Dean grinned as the radio started up a new song, one beyond fitting for their toast, like the world was in alignment with their forever. He grinned as he realized Castiel knew the words too and was smiling back at him.

Dean jumped a little when Castiel stood, pulling Dean back up to dance with him, and belted the lyrics, giggling as he swung Dean’s arms back and forth-

 

“ _ Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older, _

_ Then we wouldn’t have to wait so long, _

_ And wouldn’t it be nice to live together, _

_ In the kind of world where we belong? _

_ You know, it’s gonna make it that much better, _

_ When we could say goodnight and stay together- _ ”

 

Dean took over-

 

“ _ Wouldn’t it be nice if we could wake up, _

_ In the morning when the day is new? _

_ And after having spent the day together, _ ”

 

Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel, squeezing tight,

 

“ _ Hold each other close the whole night through… _

_ Happy times together we’ve been spending.... _ ”

 

Castiel traced Dean’s lips with his finger, singing,

 

“ _ I wish that every kiss was neverending… _ ” he blushed as they both finished together, “ _ Wouldn’t it be nice? _ ”

 

* * *

 

 

They had another war with bubbles after dinner, this time with kitchen soap. Castiel was amazed that it didn’t actually take them too long to put the house back in working order, which was good, because by the time Dean had been done playing around with him while they cleaned, Castiel had nearly dragged him up the stairs.

They made love again, tender and slow, this time in Castiel’s bed beneath his glow in the dark stars. They decided to go to sleep after, so that they could enjoy a bit of the day tomorrow, before Castiel’s parents came back home that night.

Dean was nearly asleep, eyes fluttering, his breathing growing heavy, when Castiel whispered, “Dean...are you asleep?”

“...No baby,” Dean whispered groggily, only half telling the truth.

“Good,” Castiel said, jumping out of bed, full of a ridiculous amount of energy after the exertion they’d just partaken in. He threw the blankets off of them before turning the lights on, which caused a groan from Dean, who shielded his eyes.

_ Definitely awake now,  _ Dean thought to himself, feeling less irritable as he watched Castiel walk naked to the closet, pulling out Dean’s presents. He handed him two small ones first.

“Cas,” Dean groaned, laughing, “It’s not even my birthday yet.”

“It will be in less than an hour,” Castiel protested, “Open them.”

Dean smiled as he opened more CDs for the CD player Castiel had bought him for Christmas. This time, he held the best of Queen, and best of AC/DC. Dean couldn’t help but wonder if Cas would have have indulged his guilty pleasure of Queen if he’d known that Freddie Mercury had been one of his first crushes.

The next thing he unwrapped was a movie called  _ Galaxy Quest, _ starring Tim Allen and Alan Rickman. Dean read the back, vaguely remembering that it was supposed to be a parody of Star Trek where the show’s cast were sent into space for real. It seemed like a fitting movie that they’d both probably enjoy.

“Remember?” Castiel piped up, “You said you wanted to see it when we saw the preview off of that action movie we watched.”

“Mhm,” Dean smiled, even though he couldn’t really recall the moment. He eyeballed the two larger presents still waiting for him, “Y’know, baby, you didn’t have to get me this much,” he told him, as he ripped the wrapping paper off the next present. It was a thick cookbook like his mom had, with breakfasts, desserts, appetizers, dinners, and everything in between- even home remedies for cleaning, and health.

Dean tilted his head a little.  

“You’re a really good cook, Dean, it’s kind of always been your thing. It’s no wonder dinner turned out the way it did with me burning everything, and yours being the best chicken parmesan I’ve ever had…” he blushed, “...don’t...don’t tell my mom I said that.”

Dean didn’t know what to say. The only person who ever saw any potential in him was Uncle Bobby or Sam. It meant more than Dean could express that Castiel had picked up on Dean’s hobby, without him really mentioning it too much. He also left it unsaid that he was excited to get to work trying new recipes, hopefully for Cas. Maybe tonight could become a thing...where they cooked and ate together. It would definitely be a start. “You didn’t burn everything,” Dean said, “The green beans and milkshakes were awesome, and your pie was…” he grinned, “Also better than your mom’s. Don’t tell her I said that. I think it’s cause you love me more.”

Castiel was distracted with the last present, hesitating before handing it to Dean, still self-conscious. He’d been working on this one for awhile now, “Careful with the paper,” he warned.

When Dean had stripped the paper away, he held a scrapbook in his hands, a picture of he and Castiel smiling back at him on the front cover- Dean in a leather jacket, arm around Castiel giving him bunny ears as Castiel looked back up at Dean like he was the most amazing thing in the world. Surrounding that picture were several strips of pictures they’d taken at the mall photo booth, which had kind of become tradition. They completely covered the front page.

When Dean opened, it read almost like a story, starting at the diner with their classic burgers, fries and milkshakes. The pictures had been taken by Connie, and Amber, and Sam. The page also sported a black and white menu from the diner, and the original napkin Dean had written his phone number on.

The page that followed was the arcade,outlined in tickets. There was the putt putt scorecard from the first day they’d played, their names written in Dean’s block-letter handwriting. A couple tokens were glued on the page, as well as photos of them racing, and playing games. Dean blushed as he saw them on the dancing machine together, Castiel’s feet a blur, and Dean dead focused on the screen trying to hit arrows.

Then, there was the park. Dean didn’t remember any of these pictures, mostly because he’d thought they were alone- which was evident by him pushing Castiel on the swing and laughing, playing on the see-saw, and sliding down the slide together, sharing a kiss at the bottom. Dean knew that only one person would be sneaky enough to take these: Amber.

There were pages full of Thanksgiving, Christmas, and even Prom, which Castiel had decorated with the dried blue rose petals Dean had given him. There were pictures that they’d taken themselves while goofing off. Laying in bed, having tickle fights, and what was probably Dean’s favorite, a polaroid of himself kissing Castiel’s cheek, their shoulders exposed, both of them blushing. This was right after one of the times they’d made love, and Castiel hadn’t been able to tell Dean ‘no’ to the picture. He’d wondered where it went.

Even their stars had made it into the pages. Dean ran his fingers over a new set of glow in the dark stars, feeling himself choke up at how beautiful the gift was.

Castiel had left more pages to be filled towards the back, but the last page made Dean’s heart beat so hard that he was sure if he were attached to the machines, Castiel would be worrying about him again.

There was a small two-story house, almost like a cottage pasted on the page. The front porch covered the front of the house, which was laden with windows and an old-fashioned green door with a knocker. 

In the back, Castiel had pasted a swimming pool, and in front was a U-Haul, a photo of Dean and Castiel cut out and glued onto the scene, with a tiny little Persian, and a small black kitten next to her.

“I…” Castiel started, blushing immensely. He’d been explaining the pages as they went along, “Well...um...you get it. I...I told you I want to spend forever with you.”

Dean blinked at the pages, at the beautiful dream that Castiel had. He didn’t know what to say, instead committing the details of the page to memory. The road from here to get to the little cottage would take work, and sacrifice, but he was determined to make it reality.

“Dean? Do you...like it?” Castiel stuttered a bit. 

Dean put the book carefully down, out of the way, caressing Castiel’s cheek, kissing him, “Have I told you lately that I’m in love with you?”

“Only a few hundred times,” Castiel blushed, smiling, “But I never get tired of hearing it.” He kissed Dean back, wrapping his arms around his neck. 

Dean pulled Castiel down gently on his chest, holding him in his arms, leaning up to kiss him again, “Good, you better get used to it. Forever’s an awfully long time.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you! So much fluff. Just don't eat any sugar after all of that.
> 
> **(Extensive) Songlist**
> 
> "Amazed" by Lonestar  
> "I Want to Hold Your Hand" by The Beatles  
> "I Can't Help Falling in Love With You" by Elvis Presley  
> "Don't Wanna Miss A Thing"- by Aerosmith  
> "Can't Fight This Feeling"- by REO Speedwagon  
> "California Dreaming"- by Mamas and Papas (or, if you like techno, DJ Sammy has a rather lovely version of this, too)  
> "Wouldn't It Be Nice?"- by Beach Boys
> 
> Again, I really, really appreciate you for taking the time to read and leave comments. They make my entire day. <3


	10. Behind Blue Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean stumbles across Castiel's darkest secret, realizing that sometimes, the truth is best left in the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !! IMPORTANT: !!  
>  **Warnings for This Chapter**: HEAVY Trigger Warning here, guys. (See bottom notes for spoiler of what KIND of Trigger) Also, underage drinking, language, sexual content.
> 
> So, guys, not to spoil anything- but for those of you who follow me on Twitter, you know that this chapter has been one of the hardest to write (even though we'd planned it all along). It's a very dark chapter, and I'm really sorry if it's hard on any of you to read. Know that my intents are always to give you the best story possible, and in doing so, I can't spare details that are important to the story. I try really hard to keep a good balance here. I'm not going into what happens because I don't want to spoil it, but know that I am hugging anyone who needs it.  
> Again, I truly appreciate and love you all for taking time to continue to read (and bearing with me while I write 25 page chapters), and comment. The comments mean so much to me. Thank you.  
> Regularly scheduled fluff to resume next chapter...maybe...

* * *

* * *

 

_February 7, 1999_

 

“Guess who?” Castiel slurred, hands covering Balthazar’s eyes as he giggled behind him.

“Cassie, come on now,” Balthazar protested, somewhat irritably, prying Castiel’s hands away from his face and turning around. He grabbed the red solo cup next to Castiel, and threw it and its contents in one of the nearby trashcans, which evoked a frown from Castiel.

“I’m just trying to have fun,” he pouted, tugging at Dean’s leather jacket, which he was wearing. He looked up at Balthazar with a smile, “Do you think I’m sexy?” he asked bluntly, “Dean says I look sexy in his leather jacket.”

Balthazar’s gray eyes widened, as he looked at Castiel, shocked. Castiel’s train of thought shifted fast, “C’mon, Balthy,” he giggled, tugging at Balthazar’s hand as Balthazar visibly cringed.

* * *

 

Dean looked over at the two of them from the heaps of football players, cheerleaders and popular kids crowding near him to see Castiel giggling as he toyed with Balthazar. He could shoot himself for this.

Danielle Lawson, a senior, had invited the entire football team and cheerleading squad to her house for a party since her parents weren’t home. Hell, she’d basically invited the entire school- so, Dean hadn’t really had an excuse to tell Cas no, although he tried desperately, before finally giving in. Balthazar was the cherry on top, and his tagging along had taken a little _extra_ convincing, which Castiel was getting better and better at by the day.

So, they’d spent the entire day watching movies, and hanging out awkwardly. It was obvious that the two of them were from completely different worlds, and could barely stand to be near the other if not for the one thing they both agreed on: Castiel.

“Where ya going, Dean?” Asked one of Anna’s closest friends, Rebecca. She’d been flirting with him all night, it had been a complete disaster, just like he’d known it would be. He was forced away from Cas, leaving him with Balthazar, and with a bowl of heavily spiked punch.

Now, he forced himself away from the crowd, shoving away from Rebecca’s sparkling pink nails and matching plastic smile, making a bee-line straight for Castiel and Balthazar.

He caught up to them just in time to hear Castiel begging Balthazar to dance with him, and as Cas reached for Balthazar, Dean caught his hand, spinning him to face him, at that point, not really giving a damn who saw what and what they thought about it, “Okay, let’s go,” he said.

From Balthazar’s look of relief, he could tell that they were on the same page in one of few rare occurrences.

“But Deaaaan,” Castiel whined, wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist, smiling, “I just want to dance.” He demonstrated, grinding his hips a little against Dean.

The thought of anyone else seeing Dean’s loved one like this had his blood rushing in jealousy, “It’s time to go, Cas.”

He nearly had to drag Castiel out of the house, Balthazar following behind, looking humiliated.

Dean had parked the Impala down the road a bit, to make it easier to get out, but it didn’t make Castiel any easier to carry. He opened the door to Baby, shoving Castiel as gently as he could inside, fumbling for his keys out of his Varsity jacket.

“Have you had anything to drink?” Balthazar insisted, studying Dean as he ducked into the front seat.

Dean rolled his eyes, “Get in the car, Balthazar.”

“Dean, I’m serious. I’m not going to let you get us all killed because you think you’re some tough guy who’s above the law and-”

“I haven’t had anything,” Dean interrupted, irritated by Balthazar’s very presence, not to mention the fact that he could even think Dean would let Castiel get hurt.  

Balthazar reluctantly climbed into the back seat with Castiel, scooting close to him and putting both their seatbelts on. “We should just go to my house,” Balthazar noted, as Dean turned the keys in the ignition and _Guns ‘N Roses_ began blaring.

“What?” Dean asked.

Balthazar unfastened his seatbelt, as Dean began to pull away from the road, leaning up, over the passenger seat and prodding the radio button until the car fell silent.

“I said, we should go to my house. We’re closer, and he’s smashed. No one will ask any questions.”

 _Of course he lives on the rich side of town. Probably has a butler and some fancy staircase, too,_ Dean thought, bitterly.

“No,” Castiel protested beside Balthazar, “You promised you’d both sleep over tonight at my house. You swore, it’s like a pinky promise,” Castiel said, seriously.

“His house is fine,” Dean agreed.

“Cassie, we can have fun at my house, too...you really need to…”

“Pull the car over, Dean,” Castiel said, face going pale as he cut Balthazar off.

Dean had barely managed to dive to the side of the road before Castiel was throwing the door open, vomiting out the side of the car as Balthazar rubbed his back. “His house is fine?” Balthazar hissed, mocking Dean, “And pray tell how we’re going to make it there without him throwing up again, and then how we’re going to get him up the stairs, past his mum when he’s completely bloody smashed.”

“Hehe,” Castiel giggled, sitting up and wiping his mouth, “You’re so British. Say ‘bloody hell’.”

Dean and Balthazar stared daggers into each other as Dean started the car again, and Balthazar leaned over Castiel to close the door.

“We’ll figure it out,” Dean insisted.

Castiel held his finger up, looking proud of himself, “I’ll just climb up the window!” he announced, “Dean does it all the time.”

“You’re not climbing up the window,” Dean and Balthazar said in unison, staring at each other vehemently again.

“Keep your eyes on the bloody road, Dean, or else you’re going to get us killed,” Balthazar murmured.

“I know how to fucking drive.”

They were so busy bickering, no one noticed Castiel roll down the window, sticking his head out, “Woooooooooooo!!” he yelled.

Balthazar hurried to pull him back in, “Jesus,” he swore, looking at Dean angrily.

“Baby, sit down,” Dean tried to soothe, “Here, I’ll turn some music back on. Why don’t you sing me a song till we get home?”

The radio clipped on with a familiar sounding tune strumming on the guitar. Castiel lit up, trying to remain blissfully unaware of the fighting, and find some sort of good time with the two people he loved most in the world.

“ _Sweet home, Alabama!_ ” Castiel belted, nudging Balthazar, “ _Where the skies are so blue!_ Come on, Balthazar, I know you know the words.”

“I don’t sing,” Balthazar protested softly. “Besides...it looks like you already have backup,” he looked up front, where Dean was singing along, happy to be causing a distraction.

Dean’s duet with Castiel ceased for a brief moment, as Dean slowly processed Balthazar’s words, a pit beginning to form in his heart as he realized that he’d probably known why he’d hated Balthazar, all along.

* * *

 

Every idea to sneak Castiel back into the house seemed worse than the last, no matter who came up with it. By the time they got back to the house, Castiel was less boisterous, but far from sober. At least he hadn’t thrown up _in_ the Impala.

“This is a bad idea,” Balthazar warned for the hundredth time as they shut the doors to the Impala softly.

In the end, they’d decided just to come in the back door and try to make it to the stairs, placing their luck that Mrs. Novak would either be on the front porch, or in the kitchen. What they hadn’t considered, as they rounded the back corner of the house to the back porch, was that Chuck was sitting out there, typing on his laptop on the patio.

Before ‘Plan B’ could even be comprehended, Chuck looked up, “Did Castiel forget his house keys again? Mom’s still up, she’s in the bath.”

Balthazar and Dean looked at each other, both draining of color in a panic, knowing that one of them needed to speak up before Castiel got the chance.

“We just, uh...didn’t know if you’d still be up. We were trying to be quiet,” Dean spat out the words hurriedly.

Chuck looked at his watch, “It’s 10 ‘o Clock on a Friday, Dean, you know we’re usually up later than this. What’s up?” he paused, “I mean, what’s really up?”

“Nothing’s up, Dad,” Castiel tried to say without giggling and failed miserably,  “We’re just sneaking.”  He whispered the last word.

Chuck realized immediately what was _up_. He chuckled a little, ignoring the mortified faces of both Dean and Balthazar, as he clapped a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“Son, go upstairs and sleep it off while I distract your mother. Just try to keep it down alright? Oh, and boys…..” he eyed Dean and Balthazar, “Thanks for taking care of him, making sure he got home safe.”

Dean felt disappointed. Even though Chuck was nothing like his dad, he couldn’t help but think of what John Winchester would do if he’d disobeyed him regarding Sammy. Cas was a Straight A student, with, as far as Dean knew, a flawless record. “Yes, sir.”

“Dean, we’ve talked about this. Just Chuck. Go on, get inside.” Chuck slid open the patio door, walking in to put their plan into motion.

“Night daddy!” Castiel whispered, still giggling, “I love you!!!!!!”

“Do we need something to gag him?” Balthazar whispered nervously, “Sorry, I’m kind of new to this whole breaking the rules thing.”

“Hehehe,” Castiel laughed for a moment before enlightening the two of them on what was so funny, “I don’t think that will work. Dean’s cured me of my gag reflex, so I can’t be gagged right, baby?”

Balthazar turned to Dean incredulously. Even Dean had begun to turn a few different hues of crimson.

“...It couldn’t hurt…” Dean mumbled, “To cover his mouth at least.”

“I’m just going to pretend I didn’t hear that last bit. Cassie, can you just...be quiet up the stairs? Please, love? For me?”

 _He’s my love._ Dean thought, instinctively, “Come on. Up the stairs.”

“Oh, right,”  Castiel went back to whispering, “Cause we’re sneaking. I forgot. Come on, let’s sneak.”

Dean counted it as nothing short of a small miracle when they got Castiel’s door shut behind them.

 

* * *

 

It was nearly an hour before Dean and Balthazar sat in silence again, looking at the carpeting of Castiel’s floor, rather than at each other.

Dean had gotten Castiel ready for bed, which had taken a considerable amount of effort, since Cas had already been starting to doze off while he was brushing his teeth. Now that he was tucked safely into bed, Ibuprofen handy on the nightstand for the following morning, Dean was left to deal with Balthazar, alone. _Thanks, Cas._

“So, this is what it’s like to see Cassie drunk,” Balthazar mused from the computer chair in Castiel’s room, breaking the tension and speaking softly over the snores coming from Castiel as Dean ran his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah,” Dean shrugged, “He’s a bit of a handful.” There was an awkward pause, “You know, Balthazar, you don’t have to stay. He’ll probably be out until morning. He’ll understand if you want to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Balthazar said, firmly.

Dean shrugged, “There’s not much to do. Don’t think there’ll be any movies we agree on. And you probably don’t like Nintendo.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Balthazar said, leaning back in the chair, “I want to make sure he’ll be okay.”

“He’s fine,” Dean said a little roughly, offended that Balthazar didn’t think him capable of the task.

“He’s not fine,” Balthazar countered, “He’s smashed. He’s asleep, and drunk. He threw up in your car and tried to…” he cut himself off, “...he’s not fine.” he concluded.

“He’ll wake up a little hungover,” Dean finally agreed, giving Balthazar some room, “But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“I get it. You want me gone,” Balthazar snapped, then quickly tuned his voice to a harsh whisper, “But you’re not the only one who cares about him, alright? You shouldn’t be this reckless with him.”

“You act like this is all my fault,” Dean spat back.

“Isn’t it!?” Balthazar accused.

“No,” Dean fired back, “He can make his own-”

“He’s fifteen, Dean. He can’t make his own decisions, and he sure as hell doesn’t need someone like you making them for him.”

“I didn’t force him to drink, Balthazar,” Dean frowned, shooting a glare in Balthazar’s direction, “I didn’t even want to go to the party, if you remember. We agreed to let him decide how to do this. The drinking was his decision.”

“Yes, well, he isn’t exactly known for making the best decisions, Dean. And you’re not exactly a role model. He’s drinking because he’s trying to impress you. Next, he’ll be throwing punches at the football team.”

“He’s probably drinking because we’ve been like this all night,” Dean shot back, “Didn’t exactly give him the night of his life, even before the party.”

It wasn’t a lie. The three of them had spent a good bit of the afternoon together as well, and it had taken them almost an hour to decide on the movie they were going to watch. They ended up watching _Braveheart_ , a movie Castiel thought they might all be able to tolerate. It basically ended in a war, of Dean defending the honor of one of his favorite movies while Balthazar insisted that they should have watched something with less testosterone.

It didn’t get better. They’d argued about where to go to eat, and argued again about what flavor of ice cream was the best, what music should be played in the car, about Dean’s driving, and even over what was the proper attire for the party.

“He wasn’t like this before he met you,” Balthazar said bitterly.

“People change, man.”

“He was fine before,” Balthazar insisted, his hand clenching into a fist.

“And he’s fine now. He’s gonna make bad decisions, Balthazar, and he’s gonna regret them, then he’s gonna move on and learn from them. It’s how it works with everyone. Those aren’t our decisions to make. The most we can do,” he continued, cringing at his own use of the word ‘we’, “Is support him, and be there to fall back on.”

“And what would _you_ know about that, Dean?” Balthazar snapped, his voice louder than it had been, “What would you know about being there for Cassie?”  
“Because I _am_ there for him. That’s a stupid question. Even you know that.”

“So you kick Kevin’s ass a few times, and you both get suspended for a couple days...so what? You think that helps? You think that takes away the years of shit that Kevin’s put him through? You think that it’s any better when you’re gone? That Carlos doesn’t pick on him too? You think you’ve made it easier on him? You think it’s just alright to let him drink, let him skip class, and just...punch a few guys who got out of line? That’s not _being there_ for him, Dean. That’s just...stupid. And making him just as reckless as you is even more ridiculous. What if something would have happened tonight? What if the alcohol would have interacted with his medication and something would have…”

“Medication?” Dean asked, cutting Balthazar off.

Balthazar chuckled coldly, “Of course. He hasn’t told you. Cassie,” he gestured to Cas, asleep on the bed, “Is on a heavy dose of depression and anxiety medication. To help him cope.”

“That’s bullshit,” Dean said, voice barely a whisper. There was no way that could be true. Cas was fine, Cas was...Cas. He wouldn’t hide something that big, “Besides, I haven’t let Kevin pick on him since-” Dean looked speechless, shocked.

“Since when?” Balthazar whispered coldly, “Since you two started sharing secrets and saying you love each other? Where were you before that, Dean?”

“Don’t ask such a bullshit question. You know damn good and well I didn’t move here until your freshman year.”

“Did you know that Kevin has been in class with Cassie and I since the third grade? He used to take his lunches, and trip him, or break his glasses. Stupid shit like that. School counselor did what she could and said he’d grow out of it. Never did. Just got worse. Cassie stopped talking about it after awhile, even to me. But, it’s funny you would mention our freshman year...personally, I try hard as hell to forget about it.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Balthazar?” Dean growled. He didn’t like the way Balthazar was talking down to him, acting like he didn’t know a goddamned thing about his loved one.

“You don’t have the slightest idea, do you, Dean? What it means to be there for him...to _really_ be there for him. You couldn’t handle it.”

“Try me,” Dean growled, “I’d do anything for him. Anything.” Dean was half out of the bed, ready to lunge at Balthazar for even suggesting otherwise.

“Fine. You think you can stomach the truth? Think you really love him? This is where it starts,” Balthazar rummaged in the drawer of Castiel’s desk, lifting up a secret compartment on the bottom, and piling up a stack of spiral-bound notebooks, “Here’s where it starts. Once upon a bloody fucking time, Dean,” Balthazar snapped, “There was a boy who got bullied by the football team. Only, his knight in leather didn’t come to his rescue, then. It was me.”

Balthazar thrust the notebook on the bottom into Dean’s arms before he could protest. Balthazar looked almost as hurt as he did pissed off, “Go on, then, Dean,” he said coldly, “Read us a story.”

Dean knew it was wrong... felt a sinking pit forming in his gut before he opened the notebook, seeing red, furious at the way Balthazar was antagonizing him, provoking him to do something he never thought he’d do under any circumstance. He knew it was Castiel’s place to let him in, to open doors to his past. He wouldn’t want Castiel digging around in, say, the Impala’s trunk; but, holding the weight of Castiel’s past, that Balthazar didn’t think he could handle, was too much. He needed to prove that Balthazar was wrong about them.

There was no date on the first entry. It was rushed, almost like the notes Castiel would scribble to him minutes before the bell would ring.

 

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

 

_I don’t want you to feel sad for me. It’s better this way. Life has been a living Hell. At least this way I’ll be at peace. I love you both more than you’ll ever know. I just can’t do this anymore._

 

_Castiel Novak_

 

Dean felt bile in his throat, a horrible emptiness washing over him, coldness piercing his gut. When he managed to speak, it came out as though his vocal cords had restricted, leaving him in a low gravel, “What the hell is this, Balthazar?” He pushed the notebook away, as though simply looking at the thing would make him sick. Balthazar shoved it back into his arms.

“You asked for the truth. His words. Not mine.”

 

_February 7, 1998_

 

_So. This is my journal._

_My name is Castiel Novak. About a month ago, I tried to kill myself. The above is my suicide note. Dr. Fox thinks that it’s a good place to start. He thinks it will help me with my thoughts, and my feelings. He said that part of the problem is that I keep everything bottled up. This way, I can write what I feel, and read the entries to him if I’m comfortable with it. I don’t know if I can._

_Honestly, I’d rather just forget the whole thing ever happened._

 

Dean was beginning to feel the same way, wishing desperately he could turn back the clock to ten, maybe even five minutes ago, before he’d let this become his reality. He looked at Castiel on the bed, sleeping soundly, as tears began to form in his eyes, and he continued reading, unable to look away even though he wanted to.

 

_It would be so much easier then. It’s not like anyone at the school knows, so, there’s that at least. But, my mom and dad know, and it’s changed them.  Things have just been really weird at home. Everyone’s walking on eggshells. Mom looks like she’s gonna cry all the time. My dad is a doctor, so, he’s seen people who are...clinically depressed...like me, before; but, even though he’s trying to keep things normal, I can tell it’s been rough on him, too. Even Anna’s being nice to me. Probably just because mom told her to; but, it’s still creepy. I wish everything would just go back to normal._

_But it won’t. Like it or not, I did it...and I have to live with the consequences- medicine, therapy, the whole nine yards. Mostly, I’m doing it for my family...and for Balthazar. I think what I regret most is that he found me that day, in either case. He didn’t deserve to see that. I...don’t think we’ll ever be the same again, and that hurts._

_His dad was actually the one who paid for the rehab, and for Dr. Fox. Balthazar’s dad owns a lot of banks, and they’re really well off. You can tell just by the facility they sent me to. It was basically like staying at a resort...well, a resort with a lot of pills and therapy. I can only imagine how hard it was for mom to agree. She...doesn’t really like Mr. Roche or Balthazar too much. I’m not sure why._

_Honestly, I feel awkward accepting help from anyone, even Balthazar- but, if it’s going to help things get better between us, and help me get better- I guess I don’t have a choice._

_Balthazar also told his dad about Kevin and his friends on the football team. They’re the ones who beat me up. Mr. Roche has good intentions, but he told my dad, and my dad went to the school and got most of them suspended for the first week I’ve been back. I know they mean well, but I’m kind of worried that it’s just going to make it worse. I don’t know if I can handle worse._

_Balthazar even brought a bodyguard to school with him. He’s been really overprotective. I think he’s afraid that I might try it again if anything happens. He’s not okay, even though he’s holding it in. I think the last time I saw Balthazar cry was when his mom died when we were really little. I’ll never be able to repay him, or fix what I did to him by being so selfish._

 

Dean wanted to throw the thing out the window, to grab Balthazar by his stupid vest and say it was all a lie. He wanted to go back in time, and hold the version of Castiel that felt alone, and unloved- who thought that there was only one way out. But, as much as he hated it, Balthazar was right...he hadn’t been there, then.

It didn’t occur to him that Balthazar had begun digging through journals as well until now, probably looking for more ways to show Dean how absent he had been before.

“I remember that day. The day that he left,” Dean choked out. “I found him in a locker. I tried to take him home. He wouldn’t talk to me. Wouldn’t tell me who did it.”

Balthazar looked a little guilty, and hesitant, finally coming to a mutual agreement with Dean, “He didn’t even tell me he was leaving.”

“You told me he went to Florida to help his grandparents. I asked.”

Balthazar shrugged, “I told you what I was told to tell anyone who asked. He didn’t need that. He didn’t need to be ‘the boy who swallowed a bunch of pills’. So, it was better that way. And, who were you to ask?”

The answer hit hard. “...Another asshole on the football team.”

Dean’s teary eyes fell back to the journal, where the ink was starting to smudge a little from his own tears.

 

_February 16, 1998_

 

_Things are...starting to get back to normal? Balthazar and I went to feed duck to the ducks. Oh. Sorry, let me explain. When we were younger, Balthazar and I used to have picnics in the park while Hershal was watching us. Of course, I, wanted to feed the ducks. But, Balthazar being Balthazar, had the picnic made by his home chef- and we didn’t have any bread. We had roasted duck, and potatoes, and carrots, even creme brulee for dessert._

_Anyway, we were so little that we thought it might be funny to feed the ducks...duck. Afterwards, we were kind of afraid we were going to get in trouble or something for basically turning the ducks into cannibals; but, long story short- we didn’t, and it’s become a sort of...sadistic tradition of ours._

_We usually stick to giving the ducks bread these days, like normal people. But, we always have duck for the picnics. It was really nice to do something normal that we hadn’t done in so long. I really missed it. We’ve both just been so busy since we started high school. It’s a lot of pressure. He’s trying to get into Harvard, and me...well, I don’t know where I want to go to school yet, but my grades need to be good so that I can keep my options open. We don’t talk about the ‘B’ I got on the test in Algebra II. Ever._

_Anyway, back to Balthazar. We kind of made a day of it. We went to the theatre and saw ‘Phantom of the Opera’. It was my first time going to the theatre, even though Balthazar’s been begging me to go to Broadway with him forever. Mom never says yes to me travelling with Balthazar. We’ve been trying for years._

_I didn’t think the community theatre was a bad alternative, but of course, Balthazar swears by Broadway. Dr. Fox told me to write down something I look forward to. I want to go see Broadway with Balthazar. That would be really nice. Maybe even London, too._

 

The more Dean read, the guiltier he began to feel for his absence in Castiel’s life. He also understood Balthazar’s side of things, as much as he didn’t want to. They used to spend all their spare time together, it seemed. Things had changed so much since then. Dean had been an outsider, looking in, and he never would have guessed what Castiel had been going through. He looked back down at the notebook, already in April.

 

_April 15, 1998_

 

_Today, I told Dr. Fox that I’m gay. I’ve known for awhile now. I mean I have the hugest crush on Angel and even Spike.  I’ve just been so afraid of telling anyone. I figured I would tell Dr. Fox first, and see how I felt afterwards before telling anyone else, since he’s sworn to secrecy._

_It’s still difficult to say out loud, even writing it is hard. But I feel a bit better, letting someone know the truth. It feels like a great weight has been lifted. I think I might tell Balthazar tomorrow too. But that’s all for now. I could never tell my parents, especially Anna, or anyone at school really. I can just imagine what the football team would do if they found out all of their taunts were true._

_My birthday was a couple days ago. It was great. My mom made me a cake and an amazing dinner. There were presents and Balthazar spent the night. But, something was missing. I don’t dare say it out loud or it might not come true, and it sounds really cheesy even saying it on paper, but I wished for somebody to love...like the Queen song._

_I mean, I don’t really think it’ll happen. Not for me. I’m pretty boring, and let’s face it  there aren’t very many gay boys in Sioux Falls, and if you had your choice between me or Balthazar...well…._

_I just think that’s not in the cards for me, but it’s ok. I mean I have Persian and I like being alone for the most part, but still it would be nice to have someone to hold and kiss and….do other things with. I just…_

 

Dean felt tears sliding quickly down his cheeks, and damn near jumped off the bed when he felt Castiel move, “What the hell are you doing!?”

Castiel’s blood ran cold, heart pounding. His voice cracked as tears already began to form in his eyes. It was like his very worst nightmares were coming true.

Balthazar and Dean dropped the notebooks instantly. Balthazar was the same color of red as the notebook he was holding, and Dean’s cheeks were stained with tears, both dried and fresh.

Castiel knew both of those journals without bothering to open them. The black one...from the darkest point of his life, the one thing he’d really kept from Dean...and the red one, the one he was still writing in, describing his and Dean’s romance in copious detail. _Explicit_ detail.

Castiel got up, snatching the notebooks- first from Balthazar, and then from Dean. He didn’t even have time to realize his head was still a little heavy from the alcohol. “How could you do this to me!? Both of you!” He glared into Balthazar, “How dare you show him these?”

Dean was amazed at the balls it must have taken Balthazar Roche to hold his ground with Castiel. His voice remained calm, “He needed to know the truth.”

Castiel’s voice turned dark, “That’s not for you to decide!”

“At some point, it is,” Balthazar countered.

Castiel turned to Balthazar, anger sparking in his blue eyes.  “Why? Why would you show him this? I know you’ve been missing me, but I never thought you’d hurt me to try to get my attention.”

“Cassie, I never wanted to hurt you. I only want what’s best for you.”

“Bullshit,” Castiel laughed, and mixed with his anger it was actually a pretty creepy sound, “You thought best case scenario that Dean would leave me and you’d have all my time again. Dean makes me so happy. Why would you try to take that away from me?”

Dean recognized the signs of Castiel getting ready to cry, and wiped at his damp cheeks.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Dean reassured.

Castiel pushed his hands away, “I’m not sad, I’m pissed. I want answers. Tell me the truth, Balthazar.”

“He’s reckless with you, love…” Balthazar whispered.

Dean felt himself prickle at the word.

“...And, I thought if he knew,” Balthazar kept going, “he’d be more careful with you. You were drinking last night. Alcohol is a depressant. Besides, did you even look to see how it would react with your medication?”

“Balthazar!” Castiel said through gritted teeth.

“This is what I’m talking about,” Balthazar dramatically gestured to Dean, “Cassie, what if the alcohol were to give you a bad reaction with the medication you’re on? Dean wouldn’t have known. What the hell were you thinking? Talking about getting married all the while you’re keeping secrets from him,” Balthazar went off the handle, quoting the red journal in his fury, not even realizing it, “What were you going to do, Cassie? Just move in with Dean one day, and just sneak off to your appointments, and hide the pills so he’d never know?”

“No. I was going to tell him when I was ready,” Castiel hissed, “It should have come from me.”

“And _when_ were you going to be ready to tell him, Cassie?” Balthazar asked softly.

Castiel hated that his best friend had a point. He couldn’t have kept it hidden forever, even Dr. Fox had asked if he’d mentioned it. _Is it really so bad that I just wanted to be happy for a little while longer?_ Castiel thought bitterly.

“ _He’s_ right here, you know,” Dean finally piped up. He sat next to Castiel on the bed, attempting to hold his hand. Castiel withdrew immediately.

“Look at me,” Dean spoke softly, “He’s right, you know, it should have come from you,” he reached for Castiel, tracing his arm lightly. Castiel scooted away again.

“Don’t touch me. I can’t believe you. I can’t believe you’d do this to me. I trusted you,” Castiel pushed angrily against Dean’s chest, more tears beginning to fall, “Why, Dean?”

Dean looked at Balthazar, unable to come up with a quick explanation of what had happened the night prior.

“Don’t try to blame him. He might have showed you where they were, but you were the one who chose to read them. Why? Don’t you trust me?”

“I do...” Dean said, hesitantly, unsure himself what had been the breaking point of opening the black notebook.

Castiel opened his mouth to protest, but Dean cut him off, “I wanted to prove to him that I wasn’t going anywhere. That what we have isn’t just some fly-by-night bullshit thing. Everyone keeps acting like I’m just gonna walk out the goddamn door. I’m not that kind of guy. I wanted to show him that he was wrong about me, and us. Fuck, it wasn’t even about Balthazar.” _It’s about my own insecurities. It’s about how sick I am of people telling me who I am._  “It was fucking selfish, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done something so stupid to prove a point.”

“Reading my journals doesn’t prove anything. I know you’re not that type of guy, that should be enough, right? What I did back then, what I wrote then...it has nothing to do with you and I, Dean, but if you really want to know so badly, then, I’ll tell you. It should have come from me to begin with.”

“Baby, you don’t have to.”

“Apparently I do,” Castiel snapped bitterly, before trying to calm himself, “No. We’re going to talk about it...and then we’re going to bury it.”

“I should…” Balthazar started, getting up and inching towards the door.

“Sit,” Castiel said, “You need to hear it, too. There’s more to it than just you finding me. I don’t want this coming back up again later...so we’re going to get it all out in the open now.”

“Alright, baby,” Dean assured, “I’ve got you.”

Castiel closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Not even Dean’s warm hand tight over his could stop the pain that came with the memories of that day...

* * *

 

_Things had been going downhill for some time. Now, as Castiel stared blankly at the B- on his Algebra test he was near to tears. He was slipping so badly, stressed so much to the point he couldn’t even focus. He had gym next, and was highly contemplating skipping it so he wouldn’t have to deal with the douchebags from the football team._

_He regretted the decision to go to class almost immediately._

_He opened his gym locker after class to grab his clothes. He usually dressed in the bathroom stalls because he was so self conscious. Kevin slammed Castiel’s locker shut._

_They’d been playing whiffle ball in the gym, since it was too cold outside to play real baseball, and, much to Castiel’s horror, Mr. Booker, the gym teacher, had called Castiel out and made him pitch. He’d done his best...he really had; but, his best had been cause for laughter._

_Thankfully, gym was either ‘P’ for ‘pass’ or ‘F’ for fail, and he’d been assured that as long as he put in effort, he would pass. He regretted any effort at all._

_“You know why you’re so bad at pitching, Novak? I think it’s cause you like to catch.” Kevin’s arms were on either side of him, blocking him, “Should just give you a pair of tits and be done with it.”_

_“Kevin, please, I don’t want to be late for class,” Castiel said almost dismissively, rather than meekly like he usually did._

_“Didn’t I tell you, you’re not going to class today, Novak?” Kevin had smirked, “Gonna get you wet for me, just like a little bitch.” He pulled Castiel by the collar of his gym shirt, not caring that it was cutting off oxygen. Kevin drug him to the toilets, happening upon one that was already clogged up with toilet paper._

_“Kevin! Please! Stop!” Castiel begged, trying to keep his head as far away from the water as he could._

_“What, is it not what you had in mind? Sorry, I’m not a faggot.” He grabbed Castiel by the back of the neck, stilling him, “Come on, Novak, don’t you want to make it easy today?” It wasn’t even a struggle for Kevin to hold him under the dingy water in the toilet- he was easily stronger than the boy half his size._

_Castiel flailed and kicked before an elbow finally caught Kevin in the groin and he released him. He sucked in a big breath of air, coughing and sputtering as he sank against the stall wall._

_“That’s it, Novak,” Kevin said, his voice a tone higher than normal as he held his cock, eyes watering. “You’re really gonna get it now.”_

_Kevin’s face was red and blotchy, like it always was when he was really pissed off. The school had nicknamed him ‘The Bull’, a fitting title._

_“Having trouble in here, Kev?” asked Carlos, one of Kevin’s sidekicks, decorated in gaudy gold chains. Castiel whimpered._

_Kevin was good at making threats, making gay jokes, and the more sadistic means of torture- like swirlies… but Carlos, and the rest of Kevin’s friends were just flat out violent._

_“Little faggot touched my dick,” Kevin said, making everything more dramatic than it actually was. Great. There was another rumor going around the school._

_“You sure you didn’t like it?” Carlos laughed. “You like touching cock, Novak?” he asked. “You know what I like to do?”_

_When Castiel didn’t answer, Carlos jerked his head up, squeezing his cheeks, “I like kicking your ass. Get him up, boys.”_

_Kyle and David from the offensive line picked Castiel up like he was nothing.  Carlos punched Castiel in the stomach, knocking all the wind out of him, before hitting him across the face. He wore a ring on his hand that cut Castiel’s cheek open._

_“Come on, Kevin,” Carlos said clapping him on the back, “Show this little pussy the horns, Bull.”_

_Kevin hit him in the face again, this time blacking his eye. He felt it swelling shut. As hard as he tried he couldn’t stop tears from welling in his eyes._

_“You gonna cry now, faggot?” Kevin laughed, “We’re not nearly finished here.”_

_David and Kyle let him fall to the floor. He glanced around, and even those that weren’t participating did nothing to help him. Some laughed along with the football team, others gave him pitying looks as they headed to class. The four of them took turns kicking and punching him until the warning bell rang._

_Castiel was dizzy, and sore, not sure whether maybe they’d managed to break something this time around, and even more unsure how he was going to explain this one to his mom. Carlos and the majority of the football team began to skitter out of the room._

_“Hey!” Kevin called, “We’re not fucking done here.”_

_“Sorry man, can’t be late to another class. Fuckin’ dickhead principal said he’ll suspend me.”_

_Kevin turned back to Castiel, grabbing him up by his gym shirt again, “Fucking touch me again and I’ll kill you. You understand? You better scream loud, Novak. It’s lunch hour. No one’s due in here for another period.” He grabbed Castiel up like he was a rag doll, shoving him in one of the bigger gym lockers._

_“Kevin, please!” Castiel flailed frantically, “Please, Kevin, let me go! Please, please, please!”  He pounded on the gym locker door as it swung shut._

_Castiel’s voice was hoarse when nearly two hours later, he finally heard footsteps in the locker room and one of the lockers open. The sound was followed by a rough voice, wailing to the sounds of classic rock._

_“Back in black! I hit the sack...I’ve been gone too long, I’m glad to be back! Yes I’m let loose, from the noose, that’s kept me hanging about--I’ve been looking at the sky, ‘cause it’s getting me high…”_

_“Please! Let me out! Let me out!” Castiel banged on the door. His chest physically hurt from the panic that had been flooding him nearly this whole time. Not to mention the ribs underneath that he was sure had bruised up by now.  “Somebody please! Let me out!”_

_There was a thump on the floor, something dropping as footsteps were heard rushing to his aid. When the door finally sprung open, Castiel looked up at Dean Winchester, leather jacket and ripped jeans, holding out a hand to him, “Castiel?” he asked, “Shit, are you alright?” He grabbed onto Castiel’s hand, hoisting him from the confines of the locker._

_Dean was still fairly new to the school, only arriving halfway through last semester. The two of them shared history, and a study hall. He was part of the football team, and therefore friends with Kevin by association._

_There were still tears wet on Castiel’s face from where he’d been crying for the two hours of his entrapment. His knees were scuffed up from where he’d been tossed around. His eye was indeed swollen shut and blackened. The cut on his cheek had left dried blood on his face. He quickly tried to dry his tears as he straightened up._

_“Thanks,” Castiel said quietly._

_Instead of answering with a ‘you’re welcome’, Dean looked concerned, “Who did this to you? I’ll kick their ass.” He grabbed one of the towels from the bin, wetting it in the sink, handing it to Castiel, waiting for an answer._

_Dean Winchester was an enigma. He was supposed to be Kevin’s friend, and instead of getting ready for gym_ _class, here he was helping the helpless. The cool rag felt amazing on his face. “I just don’t want to talk about it.” He pushed past Dean._

_“Hey, do you need a ride home?” Dean asked, pitifully, grabbing a giant football bag with his name embroidered on it, and catching up to Castiel, still trying to help as the first bell rang and other students began to usher into the locker room._

_“I’m fine,” he muttered, ignoring the gawking looks he was getting from other students._

_“You’re not fine, Castiel. Come on, man, let me help you. At least let me take you home.”_

_“I’ve got it,” he snapped, not really meaning to sound so harsh. He stormed off down the hall, not even bothering to check out of the office as he headed home._

_Castiel knew he was alone in the house but still slammed his bedroom door shut. He wanted to shut out the entire world. He was tired of everything, everyone. He was tired of being at the bottom, just one big joke for everyone else’s amusement.  The world was dark and cruel and no matter how hard he tried it wasn’t getting any better._

_The pain in his eye was throbbing. He went to the bathroom joining his and his sister’s room. He grabbed a couple Ibuprofen out of the medicine cabinet. As he went to put the bottle back, he stopped, staring at it. He opened the bottle again and took two more. He poured a handful into his palm, choking them down with water._

_He went to his room and grabbed a notebook, leaving a note on the bed. That’s what people did in these circumstances right? Leave a note? At least his mom should know not to worry. He locked both bathroom doors. When he’d finished the Ibuprofen, he downed the bottle of allergy medicine before drinking the bottle of cough syrup. He slumped to the floor. He just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. He closed his eyes._

_His ears were ringing, and he could barely bring himself to move by the time a knock came at the door. “Cassie?” The voice asked._

_Castiel thought if he stayed quiet maybe Balthazar would just go away. He tried to lift his arms and they felt heavy._

_There was a rustling outside the door, and only moments later, Balthazar’s voice was frantic, low in worry, “Castiel, open the door. Now.” The handle jiggled adamantly, “Cassie!” Balthazar’s weight pushed at the door, “Open the door!”_

Shhh….if I’m quiet he’ll go away. It’ll all go away. I just want to go to sleep, _Castiel thought desperately._

_“Hershal!” Balthazar thumped down the stairs. When he returned, a heavier weight barged against the door- one time, and then two, and three, until the wood cracked and the door opened._

_“Cassie!” Balthazar ran to him, lifting him up into his arms. His body felt so heavy. “Don’t you dare do this…” he heard the pill bottle lift off the floor, “Fuck...fuck…”_

_Hershal’s voice was in the background rattling off Castiel’s address and circumstances, “Is he breathing?” Hershal asked Balthazar informally._

_Balthazar’s long, cold fingers pressed against Castiel’s neck. His face started to feel wet. Was Balthazar crying?_

_“He’s breathing. Barely.” The fingers jerked back from Castiel’s neck and in an instant, they were jamming down his throat._

_Castiel coughed and sputtered, throwing up a great deal of cough medicine and pills out onto the floor. He’d barely finished throwing up the first time before Balthazar’s fingers went down his throat again. More pills spilled onto the floor. He was surprised at how many he’d taken, and also vaguely glad that he’d missed lunch._

_“Why?” he coughed._ Why are you saving me? I just want to sleep.

_“I love you,” Balthazar choked, “Stay with me. Don’t leave me alone.”_

* * *

 

_Castiel woke up in the hospital attached to fluids. His head was reaming, and he was a little discombobulated, raising his arm to find medicines going into his body. It freaked him out and he tried to move, his body still feeling heavy. It was hard to focus with one of his eyes still swollen shut._

_“Cassie,” Balthazar said, squeezing his hand, “It’s alright, I’m here.”_

_“I can’t move,” he whispered._

_“It’s alright,” Balthazar had repeated, kissing his hand gently, “You’re going to be okay, they just...had to get it all out.” He’d said the words slowly, not wanting to will them back into existence. He’d obviously been crying, red circles around usually calm gray eyes._

_“Why am I here? You should have left me,” each word was a bit labored with the medicines he was on._

_“But...why?”_

_Castiel looked a mess, attached to the fluids, still blackened eye, and various bruises covering his body. He’d thought the answer to be obvious, but still, Balthazar had to ask._

_“I can’t take it anymore, Balthazar. It’s too dark. It’s too hard. I’m sorry I’m not a stronger person.”_

_“It’s going to get better. I know you don’t believe that...but it will, love. I’m not going to let you give up on me...or yourself. It’s ironic...actually, that you say that. I bought you something.”_

_Now that was typical Balthazar. He held up a coin about the size of a half-dollar, sitting on the side of Castiel’s bed._

_“It’s not much. I just got it at the hospital store.”_

_Of course, he neglected to mention that he’d also bought the bear on the bedside, the horde of balloons, and giant bouquet of daffodils and irises. He read the coin aloud- “You’re braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. It sounds kind of silly...but, I want you to remember that...because...because I believe in you, Cassie. In all those things. Maybe if you carry it around long enough you’ll see it in yourself, too.”_

_Castiel closed his eye, tears forming again. “I don’t feel strong, Balthazar. It just hurts. It hurts so much. It doesn’t feel like it’s ever going to get better.”_

_“But it will, love. Come on now, this is me,” Balthazar said softly, squeezing Castiel’s hand to emphasize his words, “Would I lie to you?”_

_Castiel smiled a bit at that. “Maybe.”_

_“There’s a smile. And you know I wouldn’t.”_

_“Castiel!” Mrs. Novak rushed in, next to Castiel’s bedside in seconds, already crying, “You’re awake.” She had looked like she was about to hug him, but rethought the notion with all the IVs, and ran her fingers through his hair instead, “How are you feeling, sweetheart?” She treated it almost as if it were a flu, and not a suicide attempt via overdose._

Fuck. _Castiel panicked,_ She knows. I wonder if she’s mad. Does she hate me?

_“Still hurts a bit. My throat is sore. Mom...are you...mad?”_

_“Just sad, sweetheart. We don’t have to talk about it right now. You just focus on getting better, okay?”_

_“Yes,” came a heavy English accent from the doorway, “Don’t worry about anyone else, Cassie, right now it’s time to take care of you and get you feeling better.”_

_Balthazar’s dad, Sebastian Roche, was not a man of tall stature, but he commanded the entire room’s attention with the same energy he’d passed on to his son._

_Castiel’s mom didn’t care for either of the Roche men, and looked uncomfortable and mildly irritated with the situation until Castiel’s dad had come in, looking around the room awkwardly, “I snuck you some ice cream, son. Glad you’re awake.”_

_Castiel was beyond thankful for his dad, who was single-handedly responsible for diffusing several tough circumstances on a daily basis. His sister, Anna, was not present, though- which was for the best anyway, because the room was crowded enough._

_“Thanks, Dad. You’re the best,” Castiel gave a  weak smile, taking a bite of vanilla ice cream. It tasted amazing on his sore throat._

_“Balthazar and I will leave you to talk,” Mr. Roche said, as Balthazar obediently got up, “Alice, Chuck, please consider what I’ve said. Anything I can do.”_

_“Anything we can do,” Balthazar agreed, his hand lingering on Castiel’s before finally pulling away._

* * *

 

_What Mr. Roche had suggested, as it turned out, was a double-edged sword. Because of Castiel’s intentions, the doctors (and, to his dissatisfaction, his dad), had specified that he needed at least two weeks in an inpatient treatment program so that he could be monitored, hear other survival stories, and get on a proper regimen of medicine ._

_He was diagnosed with major depression, as well as anxiety- both of which, he was assured, would be easier to cope with once he’d begun his treatment, and mandatory counseling._

_The hospital provided all of these things at a steep cost...but the thought of being around people he might know, or anyone finding out what he’d done made everything feel worse._

_Mr. Roche’s solution had been a rehab that was more of a retreat, away from the city and wandering eyes, and a discreet personal therapist that actually valued their patients and recoveries. It was because Balthazar and Castiel had been best friends for so long, that he absolutely insisted upon paying for those things, not taking no for an answer._

_The school had been informed that Castiel was on a leave to help care for his sick grandma in Florida, whereas the truth was that he was sitting in a circle, talking about his feelings, and constantly being reassured of the value of his own life._

_Balthazar had brought his homework every couple of days, so he could keep up on it, but the rehabilitation facility had prohibited friends and family visiting until the end of the program- so he never actually got to see Balthazar._

_He was excited when he was finally being released, feeling a little better on a couple new medications, and his own therapist. He was still scared of what his family and friends would think. It was the hardest part._

_“Hey,” he said a little uneasily as Balthazar approached._

_Balthazar met Castiel in a giant hug, encasing him fully in an embrace, “Hey, love.”_

_“Tell your dad thanks again for everything,” he said softly, dropping his bags and hugging back. “I never got the chance to say thank you, for saving me.”_

_“You...you would have done the same for me,” Balthazar said simply, the subject painful. As they headed down the hall, Balthazar wrapped an arm around Castiel’s shoulders, pulling him in close. “Come on, love, let’s get you home.”_

 

* * *

 

“I don’t want to ever end up there again. They were good to me, but it’s an experience that no one should have to have.” Castiel said, tears flowing down both cheeks, “When I got home everything had changed. My family treated me completely different, Balthazar, too, hell, even Mr. Roche. Everyone who knew treated me like this fragile little bomb that might set off at any moment. I didn’t need another person walking on eggshells around me. I didn’t want that from you too, Dean. Not you. I just….I didn’t want you to pity me. I didn’t want things to change between us. I just wanted us to stay happy.”

Dean grabbed the black book, using it to demonstrate his point, even as tears poured down his own cheeks, “This doesn’t define us. This doesn’t have the power to take our happiness away.” There was a pause before Dean continued, “Balthazar’s right,” the words slipped out so easily it was hard to tell which of the three of them was more shocked, “Mixing alcohol with medication can be dangerous. I want you to be safe, and healthy. There are a ton of other ways to have fun, Cas. Drinking isn’t something we have to do. You don’t even like the stuff. I worry about you, the same way you worry about me. I have to know how to take care of you, sweetheart, right? Just like when you worry about my heart,” Dean took Castiel’s hand, placing it gently over his heart, “It’s the same thing. And, neither of us are broken just because we have to take a pill in the morning. We’re still happy. Nothing in this world that could change that.”

“You really hurt me, Dean. You betrayed my trust. You both did. You have to stop trying to be the only one there for me. Balthazar...no one’s ever going to take your place, you’re my best friend. Dean, I love you more than I ever thought possible. I’m not pushing either of you away...don’t you get that? It’s just really hard to spend time with both of you when you hate each other.”

“If I’m being completely honest…” Balthazar spoke up first, “I’m jealous. You used to tell me everything, love...and then, it’s like he just waltzed in after the storm and you just...you were happy to forget, Cassie. You were so happy to have something new, something that wasn’t attached to those memories...that you forgot about everything we’ve been through. You’re everything to me.”

Castiel felt guilt flooding him. He couldn’t deny the distance, and that Balthazar’s words were mostly true. Castiel _had_ been relieved to have someone in his life that wasn’t attached to a past he wanted to forget. He’d never meant to take it out on Balthazar. “I’m sorry, Balthazar,” Castiel said, not making excuses for facts that none of the three of them could deny, “I...I’ll do better. I promise.”

“Cassie...You say that I walk on eggshells around you, or that we’re different. Love, what I saw changes things. I can’t unsee what happened. But I’ve done my best to move past it. It’s just hard for me to leave you in someone’s hands who...isn’t me. I don’t trust you with him, Dean. I’m sorry. But I don’t.”

Dean didn’t have it in his heart to say what he thought...that the feeling was very mutual. He’d guessed early on, with a sinking pit deep in his gut. Balthazar was in love with Cas. His Cas. He felt jealousy still surging through him. It was ridiculous that he was jealous of Balthazar having Castiel’s childhood, all those years that he could never steal or catch up with.

Castiel spoke up softly, “Maybe you would trust him more if you spent more time with us. You’d see how much he takes care of me. That’s what I was trying to do tonight. Build a bridge between you two so you can stop playing tug of war with me. It hurts a lot when I feel like I’m hurting either one of you.”

Balthazar hesitated before his next words, “I don’t... _want_ to spend time with him, Cassie...just with you. I shouldn’t need to be friends with Dean to be close to you.”

“Fish don’t fly, Cas, and birds can’t swim,” Dean agreed,  “I won’t keep you away from Balthazar, I’d never do that to you, baby. But...you can’t force something to work the way you want it to.”

It hurt Castiel more than he could say that the two of them couldn’t put aside their differences to be there for him. That they couldn’t at least try to get along. At the very least, they’d finally agreed on something, even if the something was still a painful resolution.

“I understand. I won’t force you two to spend time together. We’ll just...go back to the way things were, I guess.” Dean would never join them on their picnics, and Balthazar wouldn’t move back to Sioux Falls to spend time with them, after college. There would never be a three of them as friends. There would only be Dean and Castiel, and then Balthazar and Castiel.

Balthazar’s features immediately hardened into hurt as he glanced away.

Dean piped up, “Hey man, don’t worry. He’ll still spend time with you. I won’t keep him to myself all the time. After tonight, making things work is kinda the least we can do. We can do that for him, right Balthazar?”

Balthazar nodded solemnly, “Anything he wants.”

 _What I want is spend time with you both, and you’ve already agreed you can’t do that._ Castiel thought, almost bitterly.

Castiel got up, hugging Balthazar, which made Dean feel uneasy. “Balthazar, I’m going to do better at spending time with you, too.” He winced, “But, if we’re done with this mess, we should probably do the sleeping thing. I’m really tired, and it’s past 2:00 AM...my head hurts.”

“Shit, I took these out for you, baby,” Dean said, opening the bottle of Ibuprofen and spilling a couple into Castiel’s hand. He almost didn’t want to let his boyfriend sleep. There was still too much that hadn’t been said, too much dust that had exploded around them that hadn’t been swept away.

Balthazar still didn’t look sated as he spoke again, “Look, I know it’s late, but, I should really head home,” Balthazar began, seeing the two of them huddled close again, “It’s been a _really_ long night.”

“Balthazar, it’s late. Please stay,” Castiel almost pouted, frowning again, “I...I don’t want you to leave like this. Won’t you at least stay until morning? For me?”

“Anything for you, Cassie, you know that...always for you.”

Dean felt his skin prickle again, uneasiness flooding through him. Selfish as it was, he didn’t want to share, didn’t even want Cas near Balthazar, even if the bastard was stuck in the friend zone. “I don’t care _what_ sort of fancy shit you eat at home,” Dean tried to smile, “Nothing beats Mrs. Novak’s pancakes.”

“They are pretty good pancakes, Balthazar,” Castiel reminded, smiling and yawning as he crawled back under the covers.

* * *

 

Getting ready for bed had never been more awkward for Dean, who usually slept in as little as he could get away with. Tonight, due to both the circumstances, and Balthazar’s presence, he excused himself to the bathroom, and emerged in the cotton pajama bottoms that Mrs. Novak had gotten him for Christmas, and an old t-shirt.

As Balthazar went to change as well, Dean sat on the edge of the bed, beside Castiel, “Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m fine,” Castiel assured, “Just tired, and my head still hurts.” He leaned up, kissing Dean’s cheek.

Dean slid into bed next to Castiel, wrapping his arms around him, and kissing the top of his head. He couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt, and frustration that came with the information that had been thrust upon him. It was almost sickening to know that he’d hurt his loved one, and even worse that he still had so many questions, none of which the timing was appropriate for. “I feel...really bad,” he admitted, in a rare display of ‘feeling’ words.

“You should,” Castiel said, snuggling back against Dean, “It means you care about me. And you feel bad for hurting me. You...you did really hurt me, Dean.”

The moment was interrupted by Balthazar re-emerging from the bathroom in silk pajamas, embroidered with an ‘R’ over the breast pocket. He glanced at the two of them for a moment, before going to sit on the air mattress Dean had blown up for him earlier.

“Are you sure you’re okay with the air mattress, Balthazar? I mean, have you slept on one? Ever?” Castiel asked.

Dean felt his skin crawl, knowing that in prior sleepovers, Balthazar must’ve shared the bed with Cas. They’d probably been doing it since they were kids, but that didn’t make him feel any better. He wished the uneasiness would subside. Jealousy wasn’t a pretty emotion to feel, it nagged at his gut and made him nauseated to the point where he felt like he’d been the one up drinking half the night.

“It’s not like I’ve been given a choice,” Balthazar complained, pushing his hand down on the air mattress.

“Me and Dean could take the air mattress,” Castiel offered, “You could take the bed. It’s no big deal, right Dean?”

“I’m fine with that,” Dean shrugged, getting up compliantly.

What he wasn’t fine with, was that Balthazar instantly gravitated to Castiel’s side of the bed, which, Dean knew for a fact, smelled like his shampoo- like Cas, some weird mixture of sunshine and honey- which was the only way he could think of to describe that smell.

Dean grumbled, realizing that neither of them were getting up to turn off the light, so he did it himself. Even the stars glowing down on them didn’t seem to bring him comfort. He settled back in, pulling Castiel into his arms. “I love you, baby,” He said it a little louder than normal, not sure whether it was out of spite for Balthazar, or just because he needed to hear the words back.

“I love you too baby,” Castiel said, kissing Dean’s lips softly, “Goodnight, Dean. Goodnight, Balthazar.” he whispered a little louder, so he could be heard.

“Goodnight, love,” Balthazar replied.

Dean felt his own body jerk irritably. _He’s my love, not yours, you bastard. Mine._

He didn’t want Balthazar near Cas, even as a friend. He just wished he’d go away. This wasn’t going to be easy. Not at all.

* * *

 

Castiel woke to the smell of pancakes and bacon sizzling downstairs. He didn’t feel hungover at all. In fact, he only felt bad when he realized that all of his journals were still displayed on the desk, and remembered what had happened last night. Like Dr. Fox had said, he was just going to have to do his best to move past it. It was already done.

He snuggled closer to Dean, who was still deep in sleep, before he raised his head a little to see if Balthazar was up yet...he was usually awake and out of bed before Castiel had even stopped dreaming.

In Balthazar’s place was a piece of paper. Castiel got up, grabbing his glasses before curiously reading-

 

_Cassie-_

_Don’t worry, I’m fine. I just didn’t want things to be any more awkward than they had to be after last night. I’m sorry for what I did, but I meant everything I said. Honestly, love, I won’t ever think he deserves you...but, then, I’d think that about everyone else, too. So, I apologize for that as well. Hopefully, we can see each other soon. I’d like that- maybe we could go to the park and feed duck to the ducks, love- or see something at the theatre? Call me and let me know._

 

_Love,_

_Balthazar S. Roche_

 

There was a rustle from the air mattress, and a meow as Dean plucked Persian off of the bottom of his legs and stretched, “Morning, sunshine.”

“Good morning,” Castiel replied a bit sadly. He sat the note on the computer desk and laid back down with Dean.

Dean stretched again, wrapping his arms around Castiel and pulling him in close, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “He leave?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, nuzzling into Dean’s chest, “I just wish I could have said goodbye is all.”

“He probably just had to get home for morning tea time,” Dean shrugged, trying to elicit a smile from Cas, “Since he’s British and everything.” Dean paused a moment, thinking about his words,  “God, he probably really does, doesn’t he? Have tea? And those little...the hell do they call the cookies- biscuits?”

“Dean!” Castiel laughed a little, “That’s so mean!”

“It’s only mean if it’s not true,” Dean assured, “It’s true, isn’t it?” he prodded.

“I...ok, yes, he does...but he and his dad have always done tea time.”

“And he has his pinky out when he drinks too,” Dean said, continuing his assault, “By the time he’s eighteen, he’ll have his nose stuck in the air, too.”

Castiel couldn’t help laughing. They were little things that he’d known about Balthazar forever, but hearing Dean point them out was just so funny, even if they were a little cruel. It wasn’t as though Balthazar had never said anything about Dean.

Castiel got up again, feeling a little disheartened as he began reorganizing the journals and replacing them in his desk. He held the red one for a moment, turning the color of the cover in the process. _Oh God, I still can’t believe Balthazar read that one. It’s embarrassing._

“I can’t believe Balthazar read this one,” he whispered aloud, “of all the ones he could read.”

Dean sat up, curiosity taking over, “What’s in it?” He’d remembered watching Balthazar and Cas both turn red while holding it.

“I...oh, it’s... umm...the journal I’m currently writing in.”

“Soooo…” Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel, kissing his lips, “Us?” he asked hopefully, his interest definitely piqued.

Castiel nodded.

“So it’s got the good stuff.” He wanted to read it, but thought better than to ask after his invasion of Castiel’s privacy the night prior, “You could read it to me, if you wanted,” he winked.

“But, Dean...it’s embarrassing.” He buried his face into Dean’s chest.

“Nah,” Dean countered, “It’s just me. Besides, I was already there for it, anyway.”

“Exactly...you were there. You don’t have to read it again.” He looked into Dean’s eyes, unable to say no, yet again, “...Fine…” he conceded, handing it over.

“You sure?”

Castiel nodded, “But you can’t laugh.”

Dean flipped to a random page and started reading-

 

_January 24, 1999_

 

_Oh my God! So... long weekend. Possibly the best weekend ever. I mean, I felt like I almost ruined Dean’s birthday by burning dinner, but as always he swooped in and saved the day. He loved his birthday presents and his pie, though he got most of it on me that first slice. It made me wonder about food play. I mean, maybe not pie, but like whipped cream or chocolate sauce. We might have to try it some time._

_Speaking of...that...we had the most amazing sex this weekend. Dean made us a really romantic bubble bath and then we fucked like we have never fucked before. His face was buried in my ass and I never knew something so wrong could feel so damn good. Then he was filling me with his cock and it felt so amazing. I was even more sensitive from where his tongue had been inside of me. I can’t believe we fucked on my parents’ bed._

 

Dean was already starting to feel the effects of the notebook. He’d honestly had no idea that Castiel was so...vulgar. His face flushed. “Jesus, Cas,” he didn’t finish reading the journal entry, instead, he was intrigued and flipped a few more pages-

 

_February 2, 1999_

 

_Holy fuck! Dean completely scared the shit out of me tonight. I was getting in the shower and he snuck up behind me. I almost had a heart attack. He kissed me and then he pulled me in the shower with him. My heart was pounding so hard. He pinned me up against the wall and started stroking me. Then he got down on his knees and sucked my cock while the water poured down on us. It felt amazing. I came so hard._

_Then I got down on my knees and started sucking Dean. I love the way he always puts his hands in my hair and thrusts into my mouth. After he came we actually took a shower together, and washed each other. It was so loving and sensual._

_When we got out, we cuddled for a couple hours before Dean had to leave so my mom wouldn’t find him in the morning. I really do love him more all the time, I can just see myself marrying him one day. I mean, it’s bound to be legal somewhere. Then I’ll finally be Castiel Winchester._

 

Dean felt his heart pounding in his chest, the jealousy of Balthazar dissipating as his mind was filled instead with the memories that Castiel had written- the smell of soap, and the thrum of the shower water over them both, and, the scrapbook Castiel had made him full of the future that he’d been dreaming of nearly daily since. He looked up to his loved one, as though finally things were going back to normal instead of the nightmare they had been living since last night.

“What one are you reading now?” Castiel asked nervously.

Dean didn’t answer the question...didn’t want to embarrass Castiel more. Instead, he closed the notebook, needing no further proof of devotion and love. “I love you. You know that?”

“Yeah….I know that, Dean…,” He replied, still nervous, “Was it...bad? It was probably bad. You can tell me.”

Dean shifted a little, taking Castiel’s hand and settling it on his lap, between his legs, where his cock was stiff under his pajamas, “Just a little,” he assured, “In the best way.”

“Dean!” Castiel gasped, jerking his hand away briefly before rubbing him through his pajama pants, “You...liked it?”

Dean laid Castiel back on the air mattress, his mouth finding Castiel’s, tracing his tongue gently over his bottom lip. “Yeah,” he whispered against Castiel’s lips, “Didn’t know you were so dirty, though. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say ‘fuck’ that much. Say it again.”

“Fuck, Dean,” he moaned, his arms instinctively wrapping tight around Dean’s neck.

Dean’s fingers began edging against the hem of Castiel’s pajama pants, teasing him as his lips moved down his neck, “So, you like when I’m rough with you?” he whispered against Castiel’s ear, holding his jaw still as he began to nip at the sensitive skin of his neck, holding him in place to assert the dominance Castiel seemed to like so much, “My hands in your hair?”

Castiel’s face was even more red, his breath coming in short, quick repetitions, eager to learn what new surprises Dean had for him this time, “Yeah...yeah, baby...I...I love it.”

 _What journal entries had Dean read?_ There were more dirty ones than he cared to admit in the red book, detailing every little thing Dean had ever done to drive him crazy- but, he couldn’t pinpoint which of them could have such a reaction on Dean. He couldn’t pinpoint much of anything, rather, because Dean wasn’t letting him think.

As soon as Castiel had admitted that he liked Dean’s hands in his hair, Dean had obliged, tangling into it, curling around the messy dark locks. When Dean’s hand dipped under the fabric of his pajama pants, Castiel let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “Dean…” he breathed as Dean started to stroke, and Castiel began to squirm, barely able to move because Dean’s knee was keeping him pinned in place.

Instead, his fingers trailed up Dean’s shirt, over his chest before discarding the shirt entirely. He decided that wasn’t enough, and slid his hand down Dean’s stomach instead, brushing the little hairs there, and following them down beneath the cottony pajama fabric, and under the waistband of his boxers.  

“I need you,” Castiel moaned as his fingers became coated with Dean’s precum, steadily pooling at the head of his hard cock, “Please, Dean…”

Dean wasn’t going to play fair though, the chuckle against his neck sending static through Castiel’s entire body, making his hair stand on end as Dean teased, “What do you want me to do to you?”

Now that Dean had read Castiel’s innermost thoughts, he wanted desperately to hear them aloud.

“I…” Castiel stammered, body rushing with both embarrassment and lust, “I want you inside of me...please baby…” he said, running his fingers up Dean’s back and shoulders, over his strong arms.

“Come on, baby,” Dean purred, coaxing Castiel by running his rough thumb over the head and underside of Castiel’s cock, just the way he liked, “You can do better.”

Castiel’s cock twitched at how dirty this was getting, “Oh god, Dean,” he moaned, finally letting those thoughts slip loose, “I want you to fuck me hard. Don’t be gentle. I want you to pull my hair while you’re buried inside me. I want you to leave love bites on my shoulders, on my collarbones. I don’t care who sees. I want you.”

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean breathed, pulling back and staring at his loved one, pupils dilated with lust. His spare hand began tugging at Castiel’s pajama shirt, wanting him naked beneath him, tugging so hard that one of the buttons came loose.

Dean didn’t notice Persian jumping after it, he was too distracted. By the time he did notice the white cat, it was when she had begun using the air mattress as a scratching post.

A loud ‘pop’ echoed the entire room, causing Dean to jump out of the bed, just in time for it to go flat, Castiel falling onto the floor with it.

Dean looked at Castiel. Castiel looked back at Dean. They both stared at each other for just a moment before both of their brains could process what had just happened and they began laughing.

Footsteps hurried up the stairs, and Dean didn’t even have time to grab a blanket before Mrs. Novak was knocking on the door. Thank god she knew better than to walk in.

“Boys? Everything okay in there?” She asked worriedly.

“Yeah, mom,” Castiel said, between peals of laughter, “We’re fine…we’ll be down in a minute.” Castiel tugged his pajama pants back on, the moment of intimacy deflating with the air mattress.

It was in that small moment, seeing Castiel on the floor, deflated air mattress beneath him, red from embarrassment and laughter, a smile on his lips, that Dean realized that this might be one of the moments he remembered if he managed to grow old. “I love you,” he said, suddenly, causing Castiel to smile even more, lighting up instantly.

“I love you too,” he said, climbing off the floor and wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist.

The moment turned serious with something that Dean had been wanting to say since the night prior, needing to say, even if Castiel already knew it. “You...uh...you know that I would have taken care of you, right? If I’d known you as long as Balthazar...if I’d been there then. I would’ve.”

“Yeah, I know, baby. Don’t worry about it. It’s all in the past. I try not to think about it. It doesn’t even feel real anymore,” he said, smiling and leaning up a little so he could rest against Dean’s shoulder, the two of them just swaying there.

“I just...I want you to know that...that I’m gonna be here for you. I don’t have…I don’t have the time that he had with you. I don’t have your past. But I’m here, now. No matter what happens in the future, I’m gonna be there for you, Cas. I’m gonna make up for the time we didn’t have. I swear.”

“I don’t need a past with you, Dean. Just a future,” Castiel said, leaning up to kiss Dean again.

“I can do that,” Dean replied, bridging the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warning Note**: Suicide Attempt via Overdose (In Detail)
> 
> Song List:  
> Sweet Home Alabama by Lynard Skynard  
> Back in Black- AC/DC
> 
> Again, hugs for anyone who needs it. It was a hard chapter to write. Remember, I love you all, and you are not alone, and always keep fighting. <3<3 
> 
> Love Always.


	11. I'll Stand By You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take an unexpected turn on Valentine's Day as Castiel takes his first steps into Dean's world and more dark secrets come to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings for this Chapter**: Sexual Content, Language, Homophobia/Homophobic Slurs, Mild-ish Violence (see bottom notes for spoiler warnings, there are a couple).
> 
> Thank you so much for your patience with this chapter. So, a couple things. Regular posting should be resuming (monthly). Before I go into why this chapter took so long to get up, I want to invite you all to go back to chapter one and look at the STUNNING cover art I had commissioned for the story by[ Marcia](https://m-arci-a.tumblr.com/). I hope you all like it.  
> Please, don't worry, we are not giving up on this story, at all. The reason this took so long to post is because I have been very, very sick...and while I've still been working on it- it's been a long process. I'm hoping the worst is in the past and things are back on schedule now? :)  
> This chapter has a little bit of everything from cute, sappy fluffiness, to smut, to a little sadness, to some rawr and violence. So, please read the above mentioned warnings if you're sensitive to anything.  
> Comments, as always, mean the entire world to me, especially right now, with everything going on. Thank you so much for your kindness, love, and support, now and always.

 

* * *

* * *

 

February 12, 1999

 

“I hate Valentine’s Day,” Balthazar murmured, huddled next to Castiel, “It’s like the entire school just loses their bloody minds. Excuse me,” he said, tapping a couple who were making out on top of his and Castiel’s lockers. “Do you mind?”

They managed to move all of two lockers down, and Balthazar rolled his eyes. He was in a particularly bad mood, and wasn’t seeming to shake it as he continued ranting, “What’s so special about it anyway? Paper hearts, and chocolate, all those sappy love movies, and then, of course the…”

_ Flowers _ . There were at least two dozen daffodils stuffed inside Castiel Novak’s locker, spilling onto the tile floor, as he opened the door, though it could easily be more. 

Dean’s blocky, all-capital lettered writing was scribbled the best he could on a note attached to the vast majority of the flowers that remained in Castiel’s locker. Castiel blushed taking the card and closing the locker quickly. 

 

_ “A FLOWER CANNOT BLOSSOM WITHOUT SUNSHINE, AND MAN CANNOT LIVE WITHOUT LOVE.” -FRIEDRICH MULLER  _

 

_ That’s so sweet,  _ Castiel thought, smiling as he blushed more,  _ I wished I would have known we were doing it at school. I left Dean’s at the house. How the Hell am I going to get all of these home? _

“I thought you liked it,” Castiel said out loud, turning his attention on Balthazar, who was scowling at the flowers and card, “You never used to mind it, or am I wrong?” 

He handed Balthazar a small box of chocolates with a handmade card. They’d done it every year since they were eight. 

“ I mean, I could take them back if you don’t want them.” 

“It’s not that,” Balthazar murmured, a crimson hue spilling across his cheeks, “It’s just...we can’t...do this anymore. You have Dean.” It was apparent in Balthazar’s voice that he was trying to say Dean’s name without venom, but that the attempt was definitely failing.

“Oh...I guess I just didn’t think it was that big a deal. We’re best friends. We’ve been trading chocolate since we were like eight, although sometimes I still miss the Power Ranger cards,” he laughed.

“They were your Power Ranger cards, Cassie. Mine were Scooby Doo, because I always thought Fred was just in the closet,” Balthazar mumbled, attempting to be less tense, “He wore a bloody scarf.”

“I thought you also had a thing for the green ranger? Or was it the white one?” Castiel pondered, placing his hand to his chin in deep concentration.

“Again, that was you,” Balthazar said, his voice barely above a whisper. It seemed he was incapable of being angry at Castiel. He bent down, unzipping his rollaway backpack and withdrawing a box of fancy truffles, decorated with a pretty silver bow, the brand from London. Balthazar looked away, the blush spreading across his cheeks again as he pushed the box into Castiel’s arms. 

“But, I thought you said we weren’t supposed to anymore?” Castiel replied, cocking his head to one side, genuinely confused. 

“Yeah, well, kind of always bent the rules for you, haven’t I, Cassie?” Balthazar said, folding his arms over his sweater-vest just as Castiel felt a strong arm snake inconspicuously around his waist.

“Hey,” Dean said, pulling Castiel in close, his football bag obscuring the view. “Still on for tonight?” he grinned.

“I bought the movie last night,” Castiel blushed, he added to Balthazar, “We’re watching  _ Titanic _ this weekend.” 

Balthazar groaned, “Cassie, that movie is dreadful. And that god-awful Celine Dion song makes me want to smite myself.”

“But, I like that Celine Dion song,” Castiel said, a bit defensively. He’d actually guiltily bought the CD with some of his Christmas money, and had been belting the song into his hairbrush so often that he was pretty sure that he may have played that one song more than all of his Britney CDs combined.

Dean’s grip tightened around Castiel, as he stepped in, “C’mon, Balthazar, I thought you liked those chick flick sort of things,” Dean said lightly, which caused a reproachful look from Balthazar.

Balthazar’s eyes narrowed, “I wish I could unsink the damn ship just so they never had the idea to make the movie. But, enjoy wasting three and a half hours of your lives.”

“Well, I hope you have a good weekend at least, Balthazar,” Castiel offered with a smile. 

Balthazar gathered a large stack of books out of his locker, looking stung as though a good weekend was impossible. He didn’t return the favor, but rather, the sour look turned on Dean for just a moment before Balthazar headed down the hallway for an early morning Student Council meeting during his Study Hall period.

“I think he’s mad at me,” Castiel said softly, staring at the expensive chocolates in his hands. “I really have been trying to spend more time with  him.” 

“I know you have,” Dean said, easily brushing off the bad vibes and reluctantly moving his arm away. He dipped down to pick up a daffodil on the floor, grinning victoriously at it, “Did you like them?” he asked, twirling it between his fingertips.

Castiel’s frown instantly broke into a grin, his cheeks blushing, “Of course, I loved them.”  _ Daffodils are my favorite...how did he know? _

Dean smiled, “I’m glad.” 

Dean had a pretty good eye for detail, particularly when it came to memorizing everything he could about Cas before they’d been friends. He was usually given little to go on, so when he was given pieces of information, like Amber coming out of sophomore English, smiling and telling Dean about the poem that the ever elusive Castiel Novak had written about a certain yellow flower, he ran with it.

“Come on, sunshine, we should probably head to class, too.”

 

* * *

 

Dean sat directly behind Castiel in their History class, which was a seat up from the prior year. Somehow, the two had managed both a history class, and study hall together every semester since Dean had started at the school, which was all well and good. If it had been any other class, Dean would have been failing a lot more than he currently was. 

History came pretty easily for Dean, because a lot of it tied in with information he already knew from hunter lore, although he couldn’t imagine that the founding fathers knew too incredibly much about  _ his _ backstory, and the creatures that tried to take the early Americas down. It would make for a hell of a more interesting history paper. He’d tried it once in elementary school, and promptly failed for having an ‘overactive imagination’.

As it was, he was flying by in history with an A, not just because it came easily, but because he and Castiel had actually been working together on a lot of it- actually working- which gave him leeway to let his thoughts wander a little bit in class while their teacher droned on about things that didn’t really matter.

He’d rather think about the stars, and Castiel lying beneath them, leaving marks down his back. After chick flicks, Cas tended to cling a little tighter, want the rougher, slower thrusts that drove Dean crazy. He pulled his pencil out of his mouth to realize he’d left deep teeth marks in it with the thought, and was having to shift his legs to adjust the constriction in his jeans.

Wasn’t that he didn’t want to watch the movie with Cas, hold him while he inevitably laughed and cried, and enjoyed the shit out of the sappy movie and the popcorn and whatever other snacks they decided to have. Wasn’t even that he wasn’t looking forward to what he’d priorly called a Hallmark Holiday...he was...he actually really was. 

It was just, simply, that Cas knew exactly what he was doing, and was intentionally driving him crazy. He was wearing Dean’s favorite pair of jeans. The ones that squeezed over his ass and lifted it up, the same ones from when he’d danced for him on Christmas. He was also wearing one of Dean’s shirts that he’d heisted, a faded AC/DC black one, that was getting a bit small on Dean, which made it just a bit big on Cas. He knew  _ exactly _ what he was doing, and being in school right now felt like a punishment. He leaned back against his seat, giving his legs some more room to stretch out.

“Open your books to page 64....” the teacher instructed.

Dean hesitantly obeyed, watching Cas’ ass lift out of the chair to grab his book, jeans grabbing it tighter. He bit his lip, ripping out a piece of paper from his notebook, scribbling out a note.

 

_ I could bend you over that desk. _

 

He tapped Castiel in the back of the shirt with it when the teacher went to get her notes.

Castiel blushed a bit before grabbing a pen and quickly shoving the note back. 

 

_ Dean...we’re in class. We’re not supposed to be passing notes.  _

 

_ And I’m not supposed to be thinking about bending you over that desk and peeling those jeans over that sexy little ass of yours- but, here we are. _

 

The note flew back at Castiel, and as they locked eyes, Dean quirked an eyebrow, shifting his leg in a way that Castiel couldn’t mistake his intentions. He shrugged, sticking his pencil between his teeth again and smiling.

 

Castiel blushed more, scribbling quickly before shoving the note back at Dean. 

 

_ DEAN!!! _

 

_ Cas! _ - _ C’mon, baby, don’t tell me you aren’t thinking about it. Coming in early in the morning, before anyone gets here. JUST before anyone gets here. It’d be light outside, and we wouldn’t have too long…. _

 

He glanced up at Castiel, who he could feel keep looking back at him, obviously wondering what could be taking him so long to write back. He smirked, burying his nose back into the smut he was writing.

 

_ -...I’d bend you over your desk. Make you hold onto the front of it just so your legs wouldn’t give out. Have those jeans around your ankles, and if anyone walked in they’d know exactly what we were doing, and I’d have you making such pretty little sounds for me, they’d know how much you liked it, too. _

 

When Castiel read the note his face went from a faint blush to a bright crimson. He was starting to get a little hard beneath his desk. He knew Dean wasn’t going to let up until he got what he wanted, so he quickly scribbled back before shoving the note back at Dean. 

 

_ I’d like it, baby.  _

 

_ That’s not good enough, Cas. You know better. What would you like? Tell me.  _

 

Dean tossed it back with a wink.

 

_ I….I’d like being bent over my desk, with you fucking into me from behind.  _

 

_ I didn’t say I was fucking you, Cas. Not yet. _

 

_ You wouldn’t dare tease me! That’s just cruel, Dean. _

 

_ I like teasing you. I like the sounds you make...the way you bite your bottom lip, how impatient you get...the way you start rocking your hips against whatever you can. _

 

_ I am impatient. I need you inside of me, Dean. Don’t make me beg.  _ When Castiel pushed the note back, Dean caught a trace of that mock-innocence in those bright blue eyes of his.

 

Dean’s hand pushed at his cock through his jeans as inconspicuously as he could, trying to get it to go down, it was starting to get painful, imagining the fantasy. It didn’t help that Dean had seen firsthand how dirty Castiel Novak’s thoughts  _ really _ were. They made him really want to test boundaries.

 

_ You’re making me a mess. You gonna get down on your knees and clean that up first? Wrap those pretty pink lips around my c- _

 

“Mr. Winchester,” the history teacher chirped, grabbing up the note before Dean could latch onto it for dear life, “You know my rule about writing notes in class. If it’s important enough that it can’t wait, it must be important enough for the whole class to hear.”

“Miss Phillips, please,” Castiel said quickly, before Dean could get a word in edgewise, “We’ll stop. Just, please, don’t make us read it outloud.”

Castiel’s face had gone from crimson to very pale and he looked like he might pass out at any moment. 

Miss Phillips lowered her voice to Castiel, to address her concerns, “I’m surprised at you, Mr. Novak. You’ve never been one for disobeying the rules, until now. It seems Mr. Winchester is rubbing off on you.”

Castiel’s face turned red again, but not nearly as red as the teacher’s as she began reading the note. “Principal’s office. Now. Both of you. And take this with you.” She handed the note back to Castiel, holding it with two fingers as if it were unclean. 

Unlike Castiel, Dean seemed rather calm, and began haphazardly shoving papers into his book, and jamming it into his football bag, before grabbing his leather jacket off the back of his chair, hanging it over his shoulder,”Homework?” he managed pretty nonchalantly.

Their teacher was still reeling with shock, “Go. Now.”

“C’mon, Cas,” Dean encouraged. He knew the drill.

Castiel’s legs felt like lead and his knuckles were white on the edge of his desk. He couldn’t move. 

“Miss Phillips,” he pleaded, “I’ve never been to the principal’s office before.”

“Well then, Mr. Novak, think about that the next time you decide to pass notes.”

“C’mon, Cas,” Dean repeated, rolling his eyes, “I’ll give you the grand tour, there’s a candy jar and everything at Mrs. Brinkley’s desk.”

The class laughed in response.

Castiel was the only one not laughing as he packed his bookbag up and followed Dean. All he could think about was how much trouble he was going to get in at home and how he’d never see Dean again and how his permanent record would prevent him from getting into a good college.

“Cas,” Dean said, as they began walking down the hallway towards the stairs, “Are you mad at me?” 

“No...I’m just...lightheaded,” he said softly, “When my mom finds out, I’ll never be able to see you again and I’ll never get into a good college and my mom will probably die if Principal...Dean, the Principal’s office is the other way…”

“Principal Canady really isn’t that bad, Cas. He’s a pretty laid back guy. Probably let you off with a warning, seeing all those shiny A’s and shit,” Dean explained, even as he kept leading Castiel further away from their destination, opening the door to Mr. Ferguson’s Chemistry class, dim and vacant, and ushering Castiel inside.

“Dean?” Castiel asked, genuinely not comprehending, “Why are we in the Chem lab?”

“It seemed fitting,” Dean said, locking the door behind him, and tossing his football bag down by the front desk.

“Dean! What are you talking about? If we don’t get to Mr. Canady’s office soon we’ll get suspended! If we’re not already!” 

“Oh, I’m definitely suspended,” Dean said with a grin, before unfastening his belt, loosening his jeans until they worked over his hips and he stood half-naked in the middle of what would be, in less than an hour, a full classroom. His cock was still half-hard, despite the commotion, and still wet from the note earlier, “Read the note.”

“Dean!” he said in utter shock, “What the hell are you doing?!” 

“Read the note,” Dean re-instructed.

Castiel dropped the note and his bookbag on the floor, coming over and trying to pull Dean’s pants back up. 

“Dean...we’ll get in trouble....we’re already in trouble...we can’t,” he breathed softly as Dean pulled him closer by the belt loops. . 

“Don’t you like a little trouble?” he breathed against Castiel’s neck, licking a hot path up to his ear before whispering there, as he began loosening Castiel’s belt, “Cause I gotta say, Cas, you definitely look like trouble.” 

Without another word, Dean was sinking down to his knees, basically peeling fabric away from Castiel’s skin, kissing as he went until his tongue lapped over the heat of his boyfriend’s cock, before swallowing it. Not entirely where he’d planned on this going, but not complaining, regardless.

“Dean,” Castiel shivered, trying to stable himself on the edge of the desk, “We can’t...not here.” He glanced at the window in the door. 

Instead of pulling away to respond, Dean gave Castiel’s ass a swift spank, enough to echo in the emptiness of the classroom, and enough to leave his own hand stinging.

Castiel let out a whimper. He jumped a little in surprise, his cock unintentionally hitting the back of Dean’s throat with the motion. He couldn’t help but think this was going to be an interesting journal entry later. 

“Dean,” he panted, “Fuck, don’t stop.”

Dean wasn’t treating this like some sort of secret. It was almost as though he didn’t care if someone were to walk in and hear how obscenely loud he was being as he let his wet lips go slack around Castiel’s cock, his tongue pressing heat to where the cool air was hitting it. 

It wasn’t until he felt Castiel’s legs wobble, threatening to give out entirely, that he let Castiel’s cock go with a sinful ‘pop’. He looked up, green eyes still full of too much mischief to be done, “Bend over the desk,” he instructed.

Castiel wasn’t protesting anymore. He laid his palms flat on one of the high tables of the Chem lab. His shirt had ridden up a little and the surface was cold against his bare skin. He moaned, before begging, “Please, Dean, fuck me.”

Dean had other intentions. In the note, he had told Castiel he wasn’t fucking him, not yet...and as much as he wanted to...as much as his own cock ached to fill his boyfriend, he wasn’t done with this little fantasy.

He sank to his knees, causing Castiel to turn around, “Dean?” he questioned at first, before Dean pushed him back gently over the cool lab counter, spreading his ass and putting him on display. Castiel’s questioning tone quickly became weak protest as Dean’s tongue glided up the crack of Castiel’s ass, to his core, tasting him, “Dean!”

“Shh,” Dean laughed. He’d become a little greedy since reading the red journal, and though he had silently promised never to read them again, it was always his goal for these events to end up in the book. He had to admit, getting busted by a teacher for writing smutty notes in class was pretty new, even for him.

Cas was backing into his tongue now, wanting more. Of course he was. Because he liked it, too. He’d protest, and he’d swear that Dean was a bad influence to his face; but, at the end of the day, he was the one tugging on sexy jeans, wearing his band shirts, and leather jacket, and encouraging it. The noises were next, and Dean worked for them, teasing them out of him by catching his tongue on the rim of Cas’ hole, rubbing his tongue over the sensitive muscle. 

He could feel goosebumps under his fingers now, on Cas’ hips, which were starting to be the only things holding his boyfriend up. He dug his fingers a little deeper, tugging, which caused Cas to falter, groaning as his hands squeaked down the table a little further.

By the time Dean pulled away, Castiel’s knees were wobbling, so much so that he questioned if they could finish standing up. Castiel blew out a breath when Dean’s mouth left him cold, and wanting more.

“Had to warm you up somehow,” Dean teased, getting up from the floor, “Get you nice and wet for me.”

Dean noticed that Castiel’s ass wasn’t the only thing ‘wet’ applied to. The floor had a couple small puddles where droplets of precome had been falling from each of them.

He stroked his own cock, letting it grow slick with his own lust, before running it along the crack of Castiel’s ass, still wet. “I want you to touch yourself, Cas,” Dean instructed, “I want you to think about how much you like the thought of being bad for me. How much you like thinking we could get caught.”

Castiel blushed furiously, but his hand was already on his cock, making long, slow strokes as he bit his lip. 

Dean pushed into him slowly.

Castiel moaned loudly before clapping a hand over his mouth. His other hand stroked his cock desperately. His legs were so weak that the table was the only thing keeping him up. He was so close already. 

“Fuck, Dean, fuck! You’re going to make me come!” 

Dean knew that. Knew all the signs of his boyfriend getting close, “What was that, Cas?” Dean asked, pushing down on the lower part of Castiel’s back, flattening him on the table and driving further into him, “I didn’t hear you.”

“I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” Castiel cried out, each louder than the first. He gave his cock a few strokes until his come made a very audible splat sound on the linoleum floor. 

“That’s what I thought you said,” Dean teased, pulling out, cock still hard, and aching.

Castiel frowned, turning around, “You didn’t…”

“Figured you’d want to get the punishment out of the way,” Dean admitted, looking at the clock. They’d been gone about fifteen minutes already, and someone would eventually come looking, if they didn’t stay in the classroom past the bell. Plus, it was Valentine’s Day weekend, and it wasn’t as though there wasn’t time for this later.

He was surprised, instead, when Cas kissed him hard on the mouth, despite where it had been, which was actually kind of hot, turning him around, and palming at his hard cock, before pulling away from his lips and nipping at his neck and his collarbones, just where he liked it, “Fuck...Cas...what’re you…”

“We have time, Dean,” Castiel murmured over the warm skin on Dean’s neck, licking and sucking, “I want you to come too. I want to feel it.” 

“I’ve been a really…” Dean paused to catch his breath as Castiel stroked him, “.... _ really _ bad influence on you.”

Castiel bit his bottom lip, knowing how much it drove Dean crazy, “Yeah, you really have.” 

Dean’s body was already starting to glisten with sweat as he wrapped his arms around Cas, drawing him closer, lifting up his shirt a bit and rutting with each thrust against his boyfriend’s bare skin, panting as he began to paint Castiel’s abdomen sticky and clear with precome as his cock worked through his loved one’s hand.

Castiel stopped just long enough to spit in his own hand before he stroked Dean faster, his other hand playing with his balls. Dean loved dirty talk and Castiel was happy to oblige. 

“That’s right, Dean. Come for me baby. Make me a fucking mess before we have to go to that principal’s office. Then when we get suspended, take me home and fuck me again.” 

There was meant to be a retort, some smart comment about how Dean was gonna do just that, take Cas home and make him his all over again; but all that was thrown to the wayside rather quickly. Dean whimpered as his knees locked, a low moan ripping through him as hot streaks of come glossed over Castiel’s stomach, running down his hips as Dean caught himself on the table before he fell over, strong arms shaking.

Castiel smiled, “I told you we had time.” 

He kissed Dean’s cheek before beginning to wipe down everything like they were on an episode of Forensic Files. 

“You gonna tell that to Principal Canady?” Dean asked, grabbing his football bag, pulling out a sweat towel and handing it to Castiel, “Might wanna clean up the mess I made out of you, too,” he winked, eyes trailing downward.

Sometimes making messes was a little too fun.

 

* * *

 

 

Mrs. Brinkley, the school secretary, reminded Dean a lot of Connie from the diner. He reached into the bowl of candy at her desk, shooting her a cheeky smile. She rolled her eyes.

“Fancy seeing you here, Mr. Winchester. Have a seat. Principal’s on a phone call, he’ll be out to get you in a few minutes.” She was ignorant of Castiel’s presence for a couple seconds, “Castiel, what brings you into the office today? You’re not on any exam schedules.”

“I...I’m in trouble, too, ma’am. We were passing notes.” 

Castiel hung his head in shame. 

She tilted her glasses a little further down her nose, examining the both of them as she sat in her seat for a moment, looking unsure of what to say,, “Well, alright then...take a seat next to Mr. Winchester. Principal will be out shortly.”

“No need to wait.” 

Principal Canady was a heavier set man, who wore cheap suits, had graying hair, and a mustache to match. He was rarely out of his office, and half the students didn’t even know what he looked like, unless, like Dean, they’d had the pleasure of his company on more than one of these occasions.

Castiel had a lump in his throat, his knees were shaking as he stood up and walked into the Principal’s office. Dean rolled his eyes and followed suit. 

Principal Canady sat behind his desk, “I’m surprised to see you here, Mr. Novak. I see you  haven’t been keeping with the best of company. I hear you were both passing notes in class?” 

“What are you talking about, sir?” Dean said, leaning back in his chair, “I’m a joy to be around.”

“You, Mr. Winchester, are the poster child for juvenile delinquency,” Principal Canady said crossly, before turning to Castiel, “I’d hate to see you slide down that slippery slope, Mr. Novak. 

Dean covered his face with his hand, hiding a childish grin at the phrase.

“Is something funny, Mr. Winchester?”

Castiel nudged Dean, before answering for him, “No, sir,” Castiel said, shaking where he sat, “It won’t happen again, sir.”

“Now, let me see this note,” Principal Canady said, holding his hand out. 

Castiel looked horrified to Dean, his face beet red, as he handed the note to Principal Canady. 

Dean sat in silence, uncertainty filling him. While he’d been to this office enough to memorize its design, and the sound of the phone ringing, the tapping of the Principal’s shoes, he wasn’t sure what to expect on this one, and found himself a little nervous, and felt almost bad for landing Castiel here, unable to offer him even the smallest reassurance by even holding his hand. He shot him a glance out of the corner of his eyes, as if to tell him it was going to be all right.

Surprisingly, Mr. Canady didn’t seem entirely shocked. Apparently in his years as an education Administrator he’d seen some shit, and smutty notes wasn’t the worst of it. 

“I expect better from you, Mr. Novak. I would never have guessed you’d be so susceptible to this type of perversion. I’m calling your parents.” 

Castiel wasn’t sure if by  _ perversion _ he meant the smutty note or just being gay in general, but his heart fluttered. “Please, sir, can’t you just give us detention?”

“Detention? I’m giving you both a week’s suspension.” 

Castiel looked like he might cry. 

Something dangerous flashed in Dean’s eyes, “You’re suspending us for what exactly?” he challenged.

“For passing vulgar notes of a sexual nature. Maybe this will finally teach you a lesson Mr. Winchester. Such a shame you had to drag Mr. Novak down with you.” 

He picked the phone up and dialed.

“So, basically,” Dean said, sitting on the desk, grabbing the phone, and hanging it up, “You want to suspend the entire high school that have been making out on their lockers all day? Or maybe the drama geeks that get a little too busy in the theatre after school if you know what I mean. Or, is it just cause Cas and I are gay? Cause I mean, it’d really suck to think our principal’s a bigot, seeing as how all that ‘fairness’ and ‘equality’ shit plays a big part in your job. I mean, taking down the ‘poster child’ for juvenile delinquency....well, that might look damn good in your book. But, Cas here…? Top 5% of his class, straight A’s, on track for scholarships to every school in the state- not to mention-” Dean dropped his voice to a whisper “Balthazar  _ Roche’s _ best friend....I’d hate for people to start asking questions, ya know. I’d really miss you if you were gone. I’d have to start getting a bad rep with a whole new guy, and that just takes work.” 

It was true. Balthazar’s father had funded so much money into the school it was surprising that there wasn’t a statue of him in the main lobby, made out of gold. 

“Three days for you, and the rest of today for Mr. Novak. That’s final, and for the record Mr, Winchester, I am not a bigot. Now, get off my desk.” 

He picked the phone up and dialed again. 

 

* * *

 

 

It didn’t come as a surprise to Dean, or to Principal Canady when John didn’t pick up the phone to come and get Dean. He never did. Usually Dean would have driven home in the Impala; but, as it was, Principal Canady, self proclaimed “not a bigot”, wasn’t having them driving home together. So, Dean had to wait.

Chuck arrived in a white doctor’s coat less than a half an hour later, both boys sitting silently in the lobby.

“What’s this about?” Chuck asked, taking a chair beside Castiel. 

“Well, Mr. Novak,it seems your son and Mr.Winchester here were passing notes in their history class”

“That’s what kids do,”Chuck shrugged, “They pass notes.” 

“Well due to the note’s graphic nature I’m suspending Castiel for the rest of the day and Dean for three, due to his prior offenses. I’m sure you’ll understand.” 

Principal Canady handed the note to Chuck. All the color drained from Castiel’s face and like magic, instead filled Chuck’s cheeks. 

“Is that all?” Chuck asked, after reading just a few lines, “Or can I take them home now?” 

“There are some forms for you to sign, but yes, you can take them home.” 

 

* * *

 

 

As they walked out to the parking lot, Chuck handed the keys to the Impala back to Dean.

“We’re not going to tell your mother about this, Castiel. She might die of shock. As for you two....as far as I’m concerned, this never happened. Have a good Valentine’s Day with Dean and just....be safe.” 

He climbed back into his own car, a look of utter shock on Castiel’s face before his dad rolled the window down, “And boys...no more passing notes in class.”

“Dude,” Dean said, as Chuck drove away, opening the door to the Impala, “Have I ever told you that your dad is fucking amazing?” He grabbed Castiel’s bag, shoving it in the back with his football bag.

“Wait, Dean!” Castiel exclaimed, hand on the handle of  the car. 

“What is it Cas?”

“My flowers!” Castiel said darting back inside. 

It was almost useless to run after Cas and tell him that he wasn’t supposed to be back in school once he was suspended, so he sat in the hum of the Impala, waiting for Castiel, who returned with his arms full of the daffodils.

“You’re such a sap, you know that?” Dean asked as Castiel settled into the front seat with him. “So…” he continued, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, “it was supposed to be a surprise, but, I figured, since my dad’s gone, that maybe we could have Valentine’s Day at my house. Give you the grand tour and stuff…” he said, “Sam’ll be at Amber’s, we’ll have the place to ourselves. I’ll cook something,or we can order a pizza and watch that movie. Then, well...I’m bad at learning lessons,” he grinned, trying to lighten the mood.

“Really?” Castiel asked, his face lighting up. “We’re going over to your house?”

Dean shrugged, “It’s not that big of a deal, Cas.”

“Are you kidding? It’s a huge deal! I’ve never been there before. I’ll get to see your room and everything. I...I can’t wait.” He put his hand on Dean’s leg while he was driving. 

Dean took one hand off the wheel, unable to resist the temptation of holding his boyfriend’s hand as the mixtape he had made changed from Backstreet Boys to Aerosmith. “Milkshake first, then we’ll swing by your place and get your things?”

Castiel couldn’t say no.

 

* * *

 

 

“So, this is home,” Dean said, as they stepped into the trailer. He’d spent most of the night prior trying to clean up beer cans (and the smell of old beer), and pizza boxes. He’d cleared the fridge of chinese takeout and stocked it instead with soda, and had even bought snacks that he’d sat out. 

He hadn’t managed to get Sam to clean his room; but he had managed to shove all of his crap into it, as well as stow away any excess hunting information into dad’s room. The floor in the living room was vacuumed for the first time in ages so that kool-aid stains, and old furniture marks were evident now, instead of the whirlwind of clothes, games, boxes, and papers. 

John’s chair had a blanket draped over it. Dean had even scrubbed the resilient stove of its bacon grease stains...not that all of them had come out. He’d taken Sam to do laundry a couple days ago, but had only gotten about a quarter of the way through folding it before giving up, so his clean clothes were still just stashed in the closet- but his room was cleaner than he’d ever seen it- but still too full of clutter to be anything other than a mess.

“We’ll have to watch the movie in the living room, I don’t have a TV in my room, but you can stick your stuff in there first if you want? It’s the door on the end, it’s open. I’ll be there in a few. I’m just gonna shower real quick,” he said, closing another door behind him.

Castiel stared in awe, taking everything in like he was seeing something majestic. “Alright,” Castiel replied, stepping into Dean’s room. There were posters of classic rock bands and classic cars everywhere, just like he’d imagined. The room was cluttered with Dean’s clothes, his guitar stashed in one of the corners. There was a window that Castiel was sure Dean was just as familiar with crawling through as he was the one at the Novaks. His dresser was littered with an old stereo an abyss of  tapes and C.D.s. Above the dresser was a corkboard that had a muscle car calendar and a few photos of Dean, himself, Sam, and Amber, and a couple older ones that looked like they might be of him and his mother. The bed had an old plaid comforter. 

Castiel laid down there, wrapping his arms around a pillow. As he inhaled the scent of his boyfriend, he found a lump under the pillow, pulling out one of his own shirts that had gone missing a long time ago. He smiled, not sure when Dean had taken it, but it was sweet nonetheless. 

Then, getting adventurous, he opened the nightstand, finding a tin box, full of little notes, and the napkin that Castiel had written his phone number on when they’d first met. Beside that was a pile of car magazines, which were bulging. Upon moving them, Castiel gasped, surprised to find sex toys, sizably bigger than the ones that he’d received from Dean to practice with. Actually, they were about the same size as….

The bathroom door swung open, and Castiel shut the drawer, fumbling with his bag again.

“Umm….where do you want me to put it?” 

Dean reappeared in the doorway, “Wherever you can find room,” he said, shrugging his own football bag onto its rightful place on the floor, next to the closet.

Castiel nestled his bag next to the nightstand. He pulled the new copy of Titanic out and took the plastic off of it. 

Dean took the VHS, eyeballing both tapes, “Holy shit, it really is three hours long. Do you just want me to order a pizza? I was gonna cook, but…”

“Yeah, pizza’s fine,” Castiel laughed. 

Dean smiled, diving down onto his bed, grabbing the cordless on his nightstand, before pulling Castiel into his arms, “Delivery. Winchester.”

Sometimes, even with hurdles like being suspended, Dean really didn’t think life could get any better. 

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel couldn’t help but get a little teary eyed at the storyline, feeling like he could relate. First, there was Rose, who’s life seemed perfect to the outside world- but, who was falling apart and felt like there was no way out. Then, there was Jack- the carefree American with an entirely different way of life, and the only one to extend a hand when Rose tried to commit suicide by jumping off the boat.

Dean didn’t like it. It hit too close to home, and Castiel’s tears didn’t go unnoticed. He felt an unsettling pit in his chest as though it could be him- that he could be reaching out to his loved one about to go over. He’d dive right in- every time, “We don’t have to finish it, if you don’t want,” he offered, pulling Castiel a little closer on his shoulder, tilting up his glasses to get at the tears around his eyes. He glanced at Castiel’s daffodils, now in a pitcher of water on the kitchen counter, wondering if maybe something just that small would have made the biggest difference.

“No,” Castiel said, softly, “It’s a beautiful story so far. They remind me of us.”

Castiel lit up at the scene where Jack was making Rose “fly” at the front of the boat. “We should go on a boat sometime and do that. It looks like fun.” 

Dean made a note in his mental ‘to-do’ list, which was already full of things, a future, that he wanted with Castiel- things he’d never dreamed were possible.

The drawing scene was a little awkward; but the love scene in the car had Castiel’s thoughts on the Impala. “We still have to do that,” he reminded Dean, “Some time.”

Dean agreed to that. There were plenty of memories in the Impala. There were toy soldiers rattling away in the vents, initials carved. There were dings and scratches from various hunts, and Dean could think of little else he’d like to add to Baby’s list of mementos than a handprint that was present in the cold of winter, to keep his thoughts warm. 

When the boat hit the iceberg, Dean was completely focused on the movie, and for the first time in a while, he finally spoke, scooting up a little on the couch, “...shit.”

Castiel held his breath several times as Rose and Jack went through several close calls. When Rose cut off Jack’s handcuffs, Castiel couldn’t help but ask, “Would you trust me, Dean?” 

Dean’s eyes widened and he sucked in a breath. It wasn’t as though similar situations hadn’t happened on a hunt. And, it wasn’t like he’d been entirely thrilled to have Sam, or Amber or even Dad or Bobby get him out of a tight situation. Imagining Castiel Novak, who didn’t cut his own steak and had probably never held an axe in his life, in one of those life or death situations was utterly terrifying. “Uh…”

“BABY!” Castiel said defensively, pouting a little, “I could so save you,” he protested indignantly.

“Cas. I love you,” Dean said, half-focused on the movie as water swirled dangerously around the couple, “But have you ever held an axe? A gun? A knife?” 

“No,” Castiel admitted, but adamantly insisted, “But, I’d do whatever it took to save you.”

Castiel couldn’t hold back the tears as it began looking bleaker and bleaker for Rose and Jack. The old couple laying in bed went, the mother and her two children went, the captain went, the band went, and the tears definitely went. So as Rose and Jack laid out in the Atlantic, waiting for the boats to come back, the tears streamed when they finally did come back. Castiel clutched onto Dean tighter. 

“I wouldn’t ever let you go, Dean. We...we would have both fit on the wood. Baby, please, please don’t ever leave me.” 

If the decision ever came...if it had to be one or the other, it wasn’t even a question. It was the same decision. So, Dean watched Jack Dawson, nothing to his name, nothing checked off his bucket list, and years of unfulfilled life, plunge into the depths of the ocean. He wouldn’t be remembered for anything he did, by anyone other than the one he loved. It hit hard. God, this was a depressing movie. And, he’d been relating Cal to Balthazar the entire time. Of course the rich guy made it.

Ever since he was young, he’d always wondered how he would go- and always assumed it would be on a hunt. He never thought he’d have anything of value he wanted to hold onto so much...someone who would miss him this much.  _ I’ll do my best, Cas. _

It would have to be enough. As much as he wanted to promise him more, he couldn’t, so he just tightened his grip, kissing the side of Castiel’s head, instead.

The movie finished and Castiel was still in tears, holding onto Dean. His eyes were beginning to dry. “I’m sorry...I just...I don’t know what I’d ever do without you. If I ever lost you...I can’t imagine my life without you.” 

“You’d...you’d live your life. And you’d do crazy shit, and remember me when you did it. If anything ever happened to me, I’d want you to keep living, Cas. I wouldn’t want you to die for me, I’d want you to live for us both.”

“I know. But it would be so hard. I don’t know if I could be strong without you.” 

“You’d have to be strong,” Dean teased, pulling Castiel in so close, he was basically on his lap, he smiled, being strong, as always, and raising his eyebrow, wiping tears away, “It’s a requirement of the leather jacket.”

Castiel burst out laughing, “Dean, I’m serious. I’m not strong without you.” 

“I think…” Dean said, pulling Castiel into a position where he was on Dean’s lap now, straddling him as the credits rolled, “...I think you’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. But. I don’t plan on going anywhere. You’re my favorite place to be.” He wiped away the last couple of tears with his rough thumbs before kissing Castiel’s lips.

“I like the sound of that,” Castiel said, lacing their fingers together, and kissing Dean back.

 

* * *

 

 

When Dean looked up at the old clock above the TV. It was still before 2PM. Getting suspended had put their plans well ahead of schedule. It was still light out, and Sam wasn’t even out of school yet. He looked at the shelf of movies next to the TV, none of which Cas would really like. “What do you wanna do?” he asked.

“Let me give you your Valentine’s day present,” Castiel replied. He pulled Dean up, stopping to smell his daffodils on the way, before they reached the bedroom. Castiel had Dean lay back in bed, while he dug around in his bag. On the very top, placed very delicately, was a large box of chocolates and another mix CD He handed them to Dean. 

“Happy Valentine’s day, baby,” he kissed Dean’s cheek. 

“Shit, I knew I was forgetting something. I meant to grab you some chocolates, too,” Dean frowned. He’d been too distracted with getting the house clean, and everything being perfect. He flipped the CD over to read the songlist in Castiel’s handwriting.

“But you got me flowers. I don’t need both. Besides, I’m sure you’ll share. You don’t like the ones with cream in the middle.” He blushed as soon as he realized what he’d said. 

Dean blushed, his freckles standing out a bit more, “Nope, but you do,” he retorted, plugging an old pair of computer speakers, for a computer he never had, into the CD player audio port and putting the new CD into the Walkman that Castiel had bought him, pressing play.

The first song that played was Ludacris’ - ‘ _ What’s Your Fantasy _ ?’ 

Dean flipped the CD tracklist over again, re-reading ‘ _ Amazed _ \- Aerosmith’ and looking up at Cas, quirking an eyebrow as though to say ‘this is definitely not Aerosmith’.

“It’s a sexy CD,” Castiel offered, trying to explain, “Heh...Happy Valentine’s day.” 

“Mhm,” Dean said, lowering his voice, “So that I can picture you dancing for me when I’m...y’know,” he said, laying back in his bed, throwing his head back in his pillow, making an obscene raspy moaning noise, tracing his fingers over his shirt, down his chest and abdomen, teasing Castiel, biting down on his bottom lip and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Yeah,” Castiel said, a bit breathlessly, his pants getting tighter. He remembered the toys earlier and wondered what else Dean was thinking about when he was touching himself. “Dean…” Castiel said, pausing, “if you...wanted to try something...you’d tell me, right?” 

“Hmm?” he asked, rolling over to his side, looking up at Castiel, his shirt pulled up just a little from earlier.

“Do you....,” Castiel swallowed hard, “...want me to be on top? I mean like...not riding you...but...on  _ top _ …” 

Dean’s green eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat, “What uh...what gave you that idea?”

Castiel didn’t say anything. He just opened the bedside drawer. 

Dean reached over him, face growing hot, slamming the drawer shut, “Cas!”

“I wasn’t snooping….I was just curious...and I realized they were about the same size as...well...me. If you wanted me to then you should have just asked.” 

For once, Dean was completely quiet, his hand resting defeatedly on the drawer, his cheeks lingering red, his eyes straying away from Castiel.

“Please, don’t be mad,” Castiel said, softly, placing his hand over Dean’s, “If I’m wrong we can just forget it. I just...want to make you happy.” 

Dean’s voice was muffled and he said the words so fast they were almost hard to understand, “...you’re not wrong.”

“Then why haven’t you told me?” 

“Because it’s  _ embarrassing _ .”

Castiel thought a moment. He didn’t understand how it was supposed to be embarrassing. “Baby, it’s not embarrassing. Should I not like it because it’s embarrassing? It’s just another way to make you feel good. And I want to make you feel good, however you want me to make you feel good.” 

There was no delicate way to put that being on bottom would be emasculating for Dean, who had never done more than fantasized (rather frequently) about being on bottom. He couldn’t help but think about what everyone would say, and think. It had taken long enough for him to get John’s voice out of his head when he was staring at a boy, touching a boy, kissing a boy. It was another thing entirely to be so vulnerable, to let himself be submissive, “Don’t worry about it, Cas. I like being on top,” Dean said, still averting Castiel’s gaze, and blushing.

“Baby, it’s just us. You can be honest with me,” Castiel smiled, climbing on top of Dean, rubbing him through his jeans, “You don’t want me on top of you, making all your fantasies come true, the ones where you’re using  _ them _ ?” he nodded to the drawer.

Dean felt his heart beating hard, a little surprised the device in his chest wasn’t zapping at him. He stood up, going to his door and shutting it. Not that anyone would be home, anyway. He felt strangely nervous, like maybe it was his own first time again.

Castiel started the song over again. “Come on baby, tell me what’s your fantasy?” 

He pulled his own shirt off over his head and gestured Dean over. 

“I...I don’t know,” Dean admitted, staring at Castiel with a certain naivety that had never been there before, “I’ve never done it before.” Except with the lengthy toys in his drawer. And he never lasted long with them. They were reserved for rare occasions where no one was home. Things usually got a bit heated. Things were different...he lost control with them, and part of him fucking loved it- and the other part of him was scared of being so lost.

Castiel was amazed that there was something Dean hadn’t done. He’d always been the expert. Now they were both in unknown territory. He could tell it was something Dean wanted, that he just didn’t know how to ask. The only thing he could think of was  _ What would Dean Winchester do?  _ So, he stood up, wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist, turning him around and laying him on the bed, winking, “I’ll take good care of you, baby.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile, Castiel’s presence putting him at ease. But, he recognized the confidence. The only thing missing was the leather jacket that was...somewhere around here. Cas would be fine. They both would be. He grabbed Castiel by the belt loops, pulling him down on top of him and kissing him, tongue pressing between his lips, fingers moving to his hips, establishing some sort of control, even from the bottom. 

Castiel tugged Dean’s shirt off, giving them skin on skin contact. He kissed Dean back, feeling how hard he was beneath him. “I love you,” he whispered. 

Dean’s fingers traced up Castiel’s back, over his shoulders, into the creases of muscle, before coming back down and fluttering over his ribs, before wrapping his arms entirely around him again, “I love you too,” he said, his cheeks flushed from desire, the very thought that this was happening. It all felt somewhat like a dream, or a fantasy, that they were here in his room. He didn’t know how many times he’d imagined Cas like this, somewhat dominant, on top of him, inside him, filling him...completing him. He wiggled a little in anticipation beneath his boyfriend.

Castiel pulled away, standing up and wriggling out of his own pants before helping Dean out of his. He looked at Dean, taking him in, like he did every chance he could get. He was just  so beautiful- the way his chest moved with his breath, the ‘V’ his shoulders and stomach formed, the sprinkles of freckles like his own personal constellation...those hard, strong muscles, those fine little blonde hairs…

He climbed back on top of him, kissing him again, feeling Dean’s precome mixing with his own against their stomachs. Before Dean could protest Castiel’s lips wrapped around his cock. 

Dean’s stomach sucked in at the unexpected surprise, before his fingers were knotting into Castiel’s hair, running through it, “ _ Baby… _ ”  _ What’s gotten into him tonight? _

Castiel moaned around Dean’s cock and took him further into his mouth until he hit the back of his throat. Dean had long since cured him of his gag reflex. His hands reached under, squeezing Dean’s ass. 

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean whispered, looking down, just in time to see beautifully blue eyes looking right back up at him. “Maybe I should get you into trouble more often.”

Castiel released Dean’s cock with a loud pop, “What can I say? Maybe I like being bad.”

“I know you do,” Dean said, truthfully. Even if, of course, Castiel was pretty awful at actually doing anything ‘bad’. It was cute to watch him try, and sometimes, even sexy. “Lay down, Cas.”

“But Dean...” Castiel pouted. 

“Lay down, Cas,” Dean repeated gently.

Castiel obliged, a little hurt that Dean was taking the reins again. 

Dean carefully positioned himself over the top of Castiel, his own knees resting on either side of his loved ones head on his pillow, stretching his torso out until his tongue flicked out to catch a droplet of precome before it slid down Cas’ cock, “Gotta get you wet,” Dean explained, before swallowing Castiel’s cock, his own hanging over his boyfriend’s face.

“That’s...that’s what lube is for,” Castiel offered, before taking Dean’s cock back into his mouth, his hand reaching up to play with his balls. 

Dean groaned around Castiel’s cock, his body shuddering, unsure what to do at both the sensation of pleasuring Cas, and Cas sucking him at the same time. He couldn’t help but grab onto Castiel’s legs.

Castiel was shaking too. It was rather difficult to concentrate with being pleasured and giving pleasure at the same time. With Dean distracted, his mouth full, Castiel took advantage of the situation. He quietly grabbed the lube out of Dean’s nightstand and pushed a finger inside of his boyfriend. 

Dean popped off of Castiel with a gasp, his legs nearly going out from under him. Usually the quiet one in bed, the noise that came out of his mouth was anything but silent.

Castiel liked it. He liked it a lot. 

Despite his best intentions, after less than a minute, Dean was so distracted that he was ceasing movement entirely on Castiel’s cock, instead, gasping around it, dripping precome into his lover’s mouth.

Castiel couldn’t believe just how into it Dean was. Hell, he couldn’t believe how much he liked it, too. He slid a second finger inside of him, his lips tightening around him as well. His other hand gave his ass a smack. 

“Baby, please,” Dean said, probably begging for the first time ever, as his body squirmed, “Fuck me. If you keep doing it like this…” he was blushing, “I’m...I’m gonna come…”

Castiel pulled away from Dean. “Lay back on the bed baby.” 

Dean let Castiel regain control, wedging his legs out of their locked position to lay back on his pillow, looking up at Castiel, his body shaking and heart pounding, eyes trailing down, even as his hand reached for Cas’ cock, needing to touch.

Castiel sat on his knees in between Dean’s legs. He removed Dean’s hand and replaced it with his own, stroking his cock with a generous amount of lube. “Touch yourself Dean. I want to watch you.” 

It was a strange change of pace being told what to do; but, Dean knew how to be obedient as well. His hand was on his own cock, stroking, though his eyes never left Cas’.

“No,” Castiel said, even trying out a more dominant tone to his voice. “I want you to touch yourself with one of the toys. Get all warmed up for me, baby. Show me how you really touch yourself when I’m not here.” 

“But…” Dean protested. Those thoughts were private. He didn’t even do that when anyone was home, “...Cas…” he looked surprised.

“I want you to,” he said, the soft submissiveness returning in his voice, almost asking rather than telling, “I want to see you.” 

He opened the drawer, pulling out one of the dildos from the drawer. It was a little different than the set he had gotten Castiel, in which it was actually shaped like a cock, the head bigger than the rest of it. And then, there was, of course, that Castiel had been right- it was damn close to the size of his boyfriend’s cock. “Is this what you were snooping around in?” Dean asked mock-innocently.

“I wasn’t snooping….I was curious…” Castiel insisted, eyes eagerly fixed on Dean. 

“Mm...hmm…” Dean said accusingly, dripping a good bit of lube over the head of the dildo, letting it drip down, as his hand began to pump it, working the slippery substance until it coated Cas’ substitute thoroughly.  “Kiss me,” he asked. 

Castiel obliged passionately. His fingers tugged at Dean’s roots. He pulled away, licking Dean’s ear. “I want to watch,” he whispered, stroking his cock a few times as he sat back on the bed. 

While Castiel had been kissing him, Dean had positioned the dildo at the entrance, hoping that he could coax more kisses from his lover, instead of  feeling those piercing blue eyes on him. He tried to think of it as though it were no different than the vivid fantasies he had of Castiel here. The head was always the hardest, but it sank slowly in, and Dean inched the rest inside slowly, arching up off the bed with each thrust that took the toy further inside him, biting down on his lip to contain sounds.

Castiel took Dean’s face in his hand, tilting his chin up. He used his thumb to pull Dean’s lip away gently. “No, I want to hear those pretty little sounds you make, Dean. It’s sexy as hell.” 

Castiel happened to finish his statement just as Dean bottomed out with the toy and began working it in thrusts, pushing his head back into the pillow, his eyes squeezed shut and his hair already beginning to stick to his forehead as he got enough concentration to wrap his other hand around his hard cock and begin pumping. His legs began to shake, and his stomach heaved with his breaths.

It was a whole new side of Dean that blew Castiel away. He’d never imagined that Dean would like him being on top. His boyfriend looked sexy as Hell writhing beneath him. He took Dean’s hand away from the toy and replaced it with his own. He thrust into him. “You really like that, don’t you baby? Think of how good it will feel once I’m inside of you.” 

Dean was beginning to wonder if they were going to make it that far. Having Castiel controlling the toy was completely different and nearly sent him over, “Fuck, baby,” Dean breathed, his chest flushed with the rest of him as he used his newly freed hand to tug Castiel down into another kiss, panting desperately against his lips.

Castiel’s lips devoured Dean’s. Without warning he pulled the toy out and replaced it with his own cock. He moaned loudly, feeling how tight Dean was around him. It was a completely new sensation for them both. 

“Shit!” Dean swore, his eyes flying open, clutching down hard onto Castiel’s shoulders, his hips bucking up, “Fuck, Cas…”

“Say it again,” Castiel moaned, “Fuck, Dean. say it again.” 

One of Dean’s hands found it’s way into Cas’ hair, tugging gently, “Cas,” he begged, groaning as the other hand landed on Castiel’s hips, pulling him into each arch of his hips, better meeting the thrusts. His cock was rubbing against Castiel’s stomach, and the friction was too much. His body was in overdrive, “ _ God _ ...fuck...Cas...Cas…” He was letting go before he knew what was happening, way faster than he wanted, his body flying up off the mattress into Castiel as he came, shooting straight up Castiel’s stomach, “Castiel...Castiel…god...oh my fucking god…”

Castiel came hard, almost simultaneously with Dean, feeling him compulsing around his cock. “Dean, fuck, baby. I’m cumming, I’m cumming!”

That’s when they heard the sound of the bedroom door close. 

 

* * *

 

Dean didn’t even have time to think about the fact that he may have just had the best orgasm of his life, and that the room was spinning.  _ Fuck _ now had an entirely different meaning. He rolled Castiel off of him instantly, feeling his softening cock slip out of him, along with a good amount of come. Going to the window, he peeled it back just an inch, and saw the last thing in the world he wanted to see: dad’s truck, parked right behind the Impala.

_ Fuck.  _

_ Fuck. _

He felt hot tears welling up in his eyes, because he knew what had just happened. His stomach started knotting, and he felt like he would throw up.

“Was that...your dad?” Castiel whispered. 

Dean’s voice was barely above a tiny, frightened, whisper, as he started frantically pulling clothes up off the floor, “...yeah.” Tears began falling down his cheeks like acid, burning, and stinging.

“Baby,” Castiel said as gently as he could, his face bright red, “You...might want to clean up first. You’re...dripping.” 

Dean knew he didn’t have the luxury of time. That door slam meant ‘get dressed, get out here now’. He couldn’t help it when he sank down on the edge of the bed, his face blotched beet red as he buried it in his hands, letting out a sob, for once, unable to be strong. A thousand thoughts were running through his mind, none of them good. 

He was reliving the horror of his own realization of being gay, and the constant, plaguing fear of John finding out. It had taken so much time to work through that even nearly enough to have a maintainable relationship with his dad, and come to grips with his own sexuality. He’d barely gotten that far. Now, those fears were coming back, with every awful thing John could possibly say or do. Dean was used to changing to please his dad. He’d learned how to be a better hunter, a better man, a better caretaker for Sammy...because it’s what dad needed him to do. Letting go of Castiel, and pretending that this wasn’t who he was...it wasn’t something he could do.

Castiel wasn’t used to being the strong one, and seeing Dean in tears broke his heart. The knots in his stomach hadn’t subsided by any means, but he decided that he was going to be strong for Dean, He was going to be brave. He wiped off his cock and stomach with a towel off the floor and began pulling boxers and jeans back on, walking towards the door as he did so.

Dean got to him before his hand reached the handle, fumbling off the bed, nearly tackling Castiel to the floor, his voice raspy, “Cas, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I'm going to talk to him, Dean. It's not right the way he treats you. You don't always have to be the strong one, baby. Let me help you.” He kissed Dean's cheek. 

The thought of John Winchester's hands on Castiel, or even his voice raised, was enough to drain the mottled red from Dean's features, “Like hell,” Dean said, wiping up and quickly pulling pants on, forgoing underwear, “Call your dad and tell him to come get you. Stay here.”

“Dean, I'm not leaving you,” Castiel said defiantly, pulling his shirt on. 

“Dammit Cas, I'm not asking,” Dean swore. “Look. I really just need you as far away from this as possible.” He tugged on an old shirt, staring at the door like hell were outside it.

“Together?” Castiel suggested stubbornly. 

“No. Stay. I'm really not asking, Cas.” Dean said adamantly, before making the stride to the door, shutting it firmly behind him. Dean eased out of his room and into the living room. 

 

* * *

 

He found his dad tilted back in his recliner, a beer in one hand, the movie  _ Titanic _ in the other, “I almost expected your mother when I walked in,” he said, forebodingly. 

Hearing that he brought back some memory of his mother, Mary, should have been a happy thought. Dean knew better. John continued, “House looks good. Turned into a real goddamn Martha Stewart, Dean. Chick flick to top it all off…” The footrest on the recliner came down, and John sat up, “As if the cock up your ass didn’t make you enough of a little bitch already.”

It was the word Dean had always pictured John using, a thousand times in his head. Imagining it didn’t honestly make it feel a damn bit better.

John staggered a little as he got out of the chair. He’d had a few before he’d come home. Dean had learned long ago how to tell. He walked toward Dean, tossing the empty bottle before going to the fridge and grabbing another.

“Cold beer  _ and  _ food in the fridge. Damn, son, you’re really working on being wife material to some guy one day…”

Dean felt his face heating up, starting to get angry. It was a risk he always ran with John, and with the counter being the only thing separating them, it wasn’t exactly safe. 

“Where's Sammy?” 

“At Amber's. It's Valentine's Day weekend,” Dean said, bitterly. 

“Well, at least I have one son who isn't a faggot,” John replied, popping the cap off the new bottle, “So, the boy from the hospital. That's the 'girl’ you were so quick to defend on our last hunt. So you're lying to me now boy?” John’s eyes flashed at him.

“Sam was the one who called him my ‘girlfriend’,” Dean spat, teeth clenched, “I believe you referred to him as my ‘piece of ass’.”

“Well I was wrong, Dean. Looks like you’re  _ his _ piece of ass.  How long? How long have you been fucking guys? That where you’ve been sneaking out the window to in the middle of the night? To take it up the ass with some boy you met at school?”  

“Why do you care?” Dean mumbled. It started out, low, and angry. But thoughts buzzed in his head, and became louder. John didn’t care. Never did. His voice cracked for the first time since puberty, “The fuck does it even matter?”

“Because you’re my son! And I want to know how long my son has been a goddamn faggot!”His voice raised before he took the vase of daffodils and threw them across the trailer at one wall, taking his half empty beer and throwing it at another. 

In Dean’s room, Castiel was shaking, terrified. He’d been listening, ear pressed to the door. He couldn’t believe the things that John was saying to his son. And now there was broken glass from something all over the floor. He hoped Dean was ok.  _ My poor sweetheart.  _

“That’s it, dad, come on, why don’t you just piss down the side of the wall, too- show me how to be a real man.”  
“Answer my question, boy.”

“God, it must really piss you off,” Dean said, starting to pick up broken glass off the floor instinctively, “Gotta admit I’m not sure if it’s because I like guys or if it’s because I wasn’t climbing out the window on a lead instead.”

John grabbed Dean up so quickly that he dropped the pieces of glass, letting them fall to the floor again, slicing a thin cut into his palm, “What did you just say to me?”

“You heard me. You’re pissed because I’m happy. Because Sam and I have a life here, without you...without crazy, vindictive hunts…”

John’s grip tightened on Dean’s face, “Listen to me, boy. I don’t give a fuck how happy you think you are, with or without me. You’re too distracted here. Too comfortable. We’re leaving. Pack your shit. I’m calling Sam.” John stepped on the daffodils and broken glass as he reached for the cordless. 

Dean lunged for John, wedging the cordless out of his hand. “It’s Valentine’s Day weekend. You’re drunk. You don’t need to be driving anywhere, I’m sure as shit not driving, least of all on some hunt so you can teach me some bullshit lesson and drag Sam away from whatever he’s doing,” he tossed the phone onto the corner of the couch. 

“I don’t give two shits if it’s goddamn Christmas. We’re leaving. And this isn’t some hunt. We’re moving, leaving town. But I’m damn sure it’ll be a lesson to you.” 

Castiel’s eyes brimmed with tears. He looked around at all of Dean’s things. Each one had such happy memories. The guitar from Christmas. Laughing while doing homework together. The very bed where they’d just made love. Dean couldn’t leave. He just couldn’t. Not now. 

“No,” Dean said. It was a bitter, unfamiliar word, one that surprised him when it came out, but it was firm. “Is that it, dad? I say I’m happy and it’s too much? We have to move, just like we did last time I was actually happy? So, just because you lost mom- Sam and me, we don’t get a fucking chance?”

“It’s because I lost your mother that I’m doing this. It’s my job to keep you safe, and that means keeping you focused. And what the hell do you mean the last time you were fucking happy? What the fuck was so great about Selby?” John cocked his head to the side, wheels turning, “You fucking some boy back then too? You been queer that long?” 

By now, the bottlecap from the sleepover in Selby, South Dakota was almost forgotten. Castiel had come along and made his world happy again. But, he had been happy in Selby too, and when he’d had to leave it felt like a wound that would never heal. He’d only known Cameron for three weeks. The thought of being torn away from Castiel destroyed him, let alone if it were to actually happen. He refused to be pried from his beloved’s arms.

“You’re not going to pack me up, and move me where ever you damn well please. It doesn’t work that way. I’m your fucking son, and I’d just come back for him. You hear me, dad? I’m just as much of a stubborn asshole as you.”

“You’re not supposed to fall in love, Dean. The people we love, that’s who gets hurt most, and all you’re going to do is end up getting that boy hurt or worse.” 

“I would NEVER let anything happen to Cas,” Dean said. Rage filled him. He hated that Dad had a point, one that had terrifyingly played out in his mind hundreds of times. “I would do whatever it took to protect him.  _ Whatever _ it took. And I’m not leaving him.”

“You think you have a choice in the matter?” Another bottle hit the wall, still half full, splattering beer. “You don’t. You can’t know when something will ever attack the one you love and there are times when you’ll be powerless to stop it. Just like what happened to your mother.”

“I think the choices you’ve made since then have been piss poor at best,” Dean said, bluntly. 

“Piss poor,” John said with venom, actually spitting on the floor, “I’ve done nothing but take care of you boys.” John shook Dean by the shoulders. 

“Ask Sam,” Dean glared at John, not budging, “Ask him who takes care of him.”

“I take care of him,” John said through gritted teeth, getting nose to nose with Dean. 

“What’s his favorite food, dad? What size of shoes does he wear? What’s his favorite subject in school?”

“Who do you think provides for this family? How do you think you can afford food and shoes and school? Me. I take care of both of you.”

“Uncle Bobby takes care of us. Alicia takes care of us. You’re just around whenever it’s convenient for you,” Dean said, not backing down, moving away from his room, putting as much distance between John and Cas as he possibly could

John punched Dean across the face, splitting his lip open. His teeth were bared and he was nose to nose with Dean again, “I am the one who takes care of this family.”  

“You just can’t stand it,” Dean replied, spitting blood on the floor, “You can’t stand that I’m actually…” 

“Actually what?” John challenged. 

“Actually fucking happy! Happy here without you! Happy with just Cas and Sam and Amber! I’m not a little boy anymore. I don’t need you. Hell, you weren’t even there when I did need you, when Sam needed you. I was the one that raised Sammy, not you. Too busy drinking and chasing demons to care about anyone but yourself. Hell, you can’t even admit it, even though you know it’s the goddamn truth. I’m not going to be you, dad. I’m never going to be-” 

John threw another punch, knocking Dean backwards. He tripped over the coffee table and landed on the floor. John was on him before he could regain the wind that had been knocked out of him. 

“Come on, dad,” Dean said, knowing it wasn’t worth it to throw punches with Castiel still in the house. Better for Dad to take his anger out this way. If he so much as looked at Cas, he might shoot him. “Show me what it means to be a real man. Hit me. Come on, do it! Do it, get it over with and then pass out in the goddamn chair so you can wake up and pretend it never happened.”

Castiel could hear the furniture shuffling and the raised voices. He wasn’t used to this. As bad as things got with Anna, they seldom put their hands on each other. He was shaking, with both fear and hatred. He had always suspected that John had caused more than a few scars on Dean. He’d never expected the truth to be this bad. 

“You think you’re a grown ass man. I’m gonna beat your ass like a grown ass man,” John said through gritted teeth. When he spoke, spit flew onto Dean’s face, reeking of alcohol. 

Before Dean could say anything, John was knocked sideways. Castiel stood behind John, their thickest textbook in hand. “You will not touch him again,” Castiel said, an anger in his voice that Dean had never heard before, rivaling something deadly. 

There were only seconds to process what was going on. Luckily, Dean was a little quicker on the uptake than John, who had not only just been hit by over 500 pages of English Lit; but was still more than a little buzzed. As John began to put together what had happened and started to reach back to grab at his attacker, Dean was off the floor, all of his weight being thrown at John as though they were on the football field. It was enough to reverse their positions, John landing on his back on the floor, Dean standing protectively in front of Castiel. “I need you to go,” he said, without looking at Cas, eyes staying fixed on John.

“I’m not leaving you,” Castiel said defiantly, “Not now. Not ever.”

“I’m not asking,” Dean said, his arm jutting out protectively as John shuffled a little on the floor.

John got to his feet, glowering at the both of them. “Son of a bitch,” John said, rubbing the side of his head, a sizeable goose egg starting to form. 

Dean looked between John and Castiel, trying to assess the situation, scarcely daring to breathe the wrong way. Somehow, the idea of having just come out with it sooner and saying ‘dad, this is my boyfriend’ now seemed like a more viable alternative. 

Now, he had John, unreadable- half as likely to be impressed at Castiel’s guts, as he was pissed at the lump on his head- either way, it seemed his dad hadn’t quite figured that one out for himself yet. Then, he had Castiel, who had just seen his family. How things really were. And who knew how much he had heard? This was going to be a long talk, and was definitely not how he’d pictured Valentine’s Day going.

All that aside, he knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t going anywhere- and this had to be straightened out. He didn’t know how yet; but, separating them for now seemed a good start. He grabbed Castiel by the arm, ushering him towards the door, words spilling out as quick as he could think of them, “Go wait in the car, Cas, I’ll bring you your stuff, and get you home, everything’s going to be-”

“I know,” Castiel said, quickly, turning to face John bravely, even with the English Lit book still clutched in his grasp like a weapon, “I know you hunt ghosts and demons. I...I know you’re slayers.” 

Dean felt his heart stop, his blood run cold. His mouth stopped moving, his mind went blank, and he just...stopped. It hadn’t been more than a few minutes ago that his world was over. It couldn’t get any worse. All of his nightmares about dad finding out had come true...he knew everything. But now...now there was Cas.

...And he knew everything too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Warnings: Family Violence, and Surprise! John Winchester.
> 
> Song List for Chapter:  
> (Title Song) I'll Stand by You- The Pretenders [which reminds me very much of Castiel to Dean <3]  
> My Heart Will Go On: Celine Dion  
> What's Your Fantasy?: Ludacris  
>  
> 
> The Official (Commissioned) Cover Art for the story. Please don't re-distribute or steal it, as it was made for this story, and I paid for it. <3
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 
> 
> Thank you again so much for your patience, love, and support. It means the entire world to me. See you soon, loves.  
> 


	12. Welcome to the Jungle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things escalate quickly when worlds collide- could it be the end, or is it just the beginning?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings for this Chapter**: Violence, Language, Sexual Themes and a Little bit of Sad.
> 
> Thank you again so much for your patience. I'm back from JIBCon now (it was amazing, by the way. 10/10 would recommend <3). The goal was to have the chapter up by the end of the month, so here we are on the last day. Sorry to leave y'all on that cliffhanger last chapter. Hopefully the end of the chapter makes up for it? <3 Again, thank you for your time and kind words and comments on the story- they mean the world to me!  
> Things are back to normal, and there are no cons in my immediate future, so you can expect Chapter 13 no later than the end of June (I don't anticipate it taking that long). I hope this chapter finds everyone happy, and in good spirits- and that you all are doing beautifully. PS: I think I can safely promise fluff next chapter. And maybe something a little...wayward.
> 
> Take Care (&lots of love)

* * *

* * *

 

Still February 12, 1999

 

“...What…?” Dean asked, stopping in his footsteps, turning slowly to face Castiel, as if when he turned back to the trailer in that second, everything would have changed.

“I know, Dean,” Castiel repeated, pushing his glasses up, looking from Dean to John and back again, “I’ve known for some time.” 

Dean studied Castiel, in a rare moment where he took in every detail. There was a silent sapience residing behind his cerulean blue eyes, a wiseness beyond his age. If you didn’t stop to think about it every once in awhile, it was easy to overlook, especially once you took the time to get to know Cas...especially on days where he had you distracted with old AC/DC shirts, and clingy jeans. 

It was easy to see that boy....the almost sixteen year old sophomore in high school, with innocent blue eyes, and too good intentions, who seemed to be naive to the rest of the world. It wasn’t a surprise that Dean was so taken aback by the simple words. He was so caught off-guard that he didn’t know whether to tell Cas the truth, and ask how he’d come to the conclusion, or outright lie to him. Instead, his mouth hung open, a small noise thudding out of his lips.

“I started getting suspicious the day you went to the hospital,” Castiel explained, “You were acting like something was up at the diner. I could tell even though you tried to hide it. Then you were driving around in circles half the night and kept saying you just kept getting turned around, but we’ve been to the diner tons of times. Then that night you were talking about me getting attacked by a demon. At first I just shrugged it off as the fever, but when I brought it up to Sam at the hospital I’ve never seen the color drain out of him faster.”

Castiel wrapped his arms around the literature book, trying to assess both Dean and John’s reactions. Dean was hard to read and John even more of a mystery. He took a breath and didn’t give either of them a chance to disprove his theories. 

“Then, I started doing research on demons. I also found salt around my doors and windows, which, according to my research keeps spirits out. I also found these weird symbols etched on my bed posts. I couldn’t find much on them, just that they’re for protection. So....I figured it out. I knew you were a slayer. I’ve known for awhile.” 

John actually started laughing. He clapped Castiel on the back, making him flinch a little. 

“Smart kid, this one. Give him a beer, Dean. Get one for all of us.” 

John stepped over the glass to pull out a dining room chair out and gestured to Castiel, who couldn’t contain a horrified look at the state of his daffodils, wincing as his shoes crunched into a little of the glass. Castiel sat down next to John. 

“We’re not called slayers, boy. We’re hunters. Demons, ghosts, shapeshifters...the lot. None of that Buffy shit around here.” 

Dean was entirely pale, more quiet than either his dad or boyfriend had probably seen him in the majority of their time with him, as he went to the fridge, taking three beers from the almost empty twelve-pack, before reaching into the cabinet, and getting a fresh one, before it depleted entirely. He handed John a beer first, before cracking his and Castiel’s open, before mouthing, ‘drink it’ inconspicuously to him.

Castiel took the beer from Dean, knowing enough about John Winchester not to refuse. He took a sip.  _ Man, this tastes like piss.  _ “I want to be a hunter too, sir,” Castiel said, determined.

“No,” Dean said, horrified, the second the words came out of Castiel’s mouth.

“But Dean…” Castiel protested, before John interjected.

“Ain’t for you to decide Dean, Boy’s grown. He can make his own decisions.” 

If Dean thought he was angry before, it was a shadow of this. And this, he had to keep in, because Cas was here, at the table with them, and John’s mood could easily flip from admiration right back to pissed-the-fuck-off. It was better this way. 

“I’m not going to have him go out and get himself killed because he thinks that we’re in some TV show and I’m some sort of hero. That’s not what this is, and I’m not risking it. I’ve kept it apart- hunting, and home- that’s...that’s what I’m gonna do. And that’s my decision, not his,” he turned to Cas, “Not yours. The answer’s no.”  _ You have no idea what you’re asking. How could you just throw this on me like this? _

“But Dean,” Castiel pouted, “I could be your Willow. I could help you...with research and stuff. And clearly you’re worried about something attacking me. The least I could do is learn how to defend myself. You could teach me.”

John raised an eyebrow, “Kid’s got a point.” 

Dean matched the expression almost flawlessly. Sure, when it came down to it, he would’ve eventually gotten around to teaching Castiel how to shoot a gun...maybe even taught him some things that would benefit him, and ease Dean’s troubled mind when it came to keeping Cas safe. But, not like this. This wasn’t fair. He was outnumbered by two of the most stubborn people he knew...and still reeling in shock over Cas’ admission,  “So what, I don’t have a choice in the matter? You’re both gonna make me do this? Fine. Do it.” Dean felt anger, and resentment rising in him, and he wasn’t sure whether it was directed at John, or at Castiel this time. He stood up, letting the chair fall on its legs with a thud, “But don’t forget about everything that comes with it. Right, dad? I mean, there’s more to being a hunter than just...well, being a hunter.”

Dean went to his room, and could be heard moving throughout the house. He returned with an armful of thick books, a shoebox, and a case, all of which, he let, clatter to the table.

“First thing you’re gonna need is the lorebooks. Think you’re ever gonna sleep again? Think again,” Dean’s teeth were clenched. “Just when you think you’ve gotten enough information to feel safe, you’ll find out something else is out there that you’ve never heard of. But at least you’re not a kid. Then, well,”

Dean pulled a handgun from a case, loading and unloading it, disarming and setting it in front of Cas, “You’ll need to learn to shoot. Quick. Sam and I have been practicing since we were about six.  I mean, even if you’re just staying behind and reading the lore, you never know, Cas. Cause you think you’re safe. But you just never know. Right, dad?”

Dean tore open the shoebox, pulling out a worn out photo of a smiling blonde woman in the embrace of a much less ragged and drunk John Winchester. In between them, caught in John’s arm was a grinning kindergarten-age Dean, and in the woman’s arms was a bundle of Sam, not more than a few months old. 

“Family never means the same thing again after you choose this life. And it’s not the choice I’d make for you. But fuck, Cas...it’s apparently not my choice to make,” he glared at John. 

Saying his piece didn’t make him feel remotely better. He tore away, retreating to his room like a coward as tears started to fall, before he could say anything else he could regret. It wasn’t as though Castiel knew the circumstances of his recurring nightmares...Castiel, burning, taking the only home he’d ever known since he was five years old with him. He slammed his bedroom door behind him.

“We lost his mother to a demon,” John explained, picking the picture up carefully, looking over it with an unreadable expression, before sitting it down and continuing, “Maybe if we’d known then what we know now we wouldn’t have lost her. It’s a good thing, you wanting to be prepared. He must be very serious about you. How long have you been ...dating...?” 

“...Three months,” Castiel said softly, a little in shock.  _ Poor Dean, I’ve never seen him like this. He must be really worried about me. He must have thought it was going to happen again that night with the demon in the snow. I never knew. He never told me.  _ “I should go check on him…”

John nodded, “Hey, kid?”

“Yes, sir?”

“It’s not a bad thing. Wanting to be able to defend yourself. He’ll see it for what it is eventually. He’ll come ‘round.”

The words, even with seemingly good intention...didn’t make Castiel feel any better. “Goodnight, sir.”

Castiel went to Dean’s room, knocking softly before coming in anyway. “Hey _.” _

He was met with the soft sounds of Dean’s stereo playing one of his favorites-

_ -just a drop of water, _

_ In an endless sea… _

_ All we do...crumbles to the ground, _

_ Though, we refuse to see… _

_ Dust in the wind…. _

_ All we are is dust in the wind…. _

 

Dean was staring up at the ceiling, as though maybe it weren’t vacant of stars, his arms tucked behind his head, one leg propped up. It was all so dumb to think that this wouldn’t happen. That there could ever be two lives. Now, everything in him just wanted to push Castiel away, far away, out of this one, where it was safe, where there was this other Dean, that was just some school badass, and his little brother’s hero- not a demon ‘slayer’. “Hey…” 

He didn’t bother looking at Cas...couldn’t. Four minutes and twenty eight seconds had passed from the prior song,  _ Lightning's Hand,  _ and over a minute had passed into this one. And for those maybe six minutes that had passed since he’d left Castiel with his dad in the kitchen, he’d been dying a little inside, trying to figure out how he could ever end it with Castiel, before things got worse. Because they would. He could see that now. He couldn’t look at him. He closed his eyes, and all he could see was blue, like the ocean, like the infinity of blue skies and sunshine that Castiel brought to him- and he couldn’t bring himself to the words.  _ You’re better without me. It won’t work. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to live a normal life. You deserve better. It’s over. It’s over.  _

Castiel crawled in bed beside Dean, laying his head on his chest. He was quiet for a moment, listening to his heartbeat and mimicking the rhythm with his index finger. “I wasn’t planning on telling you...ever.” 

_ Yeah, well, neither was I.  _ More quiet seconds passed before Dean breathed in, “What do you want me to say?” 

“That you still love me, even though you’re angry with me,” Castiel replied, eyes beginning to fill with tears, “This wasn’t how I pictured my first real Valentine’s Day.”

“I…” Dean’s chest heaved with the weight of his words, trying to keep himself together, “I don’t think that I could stop loving you, no matter what happened to us.” 

It seemed ridiculous, Dean knew, that in three months of tender kisses, and caresses, and only half a year of milkshakes, jokes, and laughs; a year of stolen glances at the boy with messy hair and blue eyes, that Dean could picture a damn future with him. For normal kids, a future was a daily thought- a life goal- college, marriage, kids. Dean had sworn off of all those things early on...and only Castiel Novak could make him want them so much that the yearning felt like physical pain in his chest.

His breaths came in heavier, his chest heaving as tears began to fall with the weight of the decision he knew he should make bearing down hard on him. He could picture Castiel sitting hand in hand with him in some old person’s home when they were ninety playing goddamn checkers, and before that- walking towards him wearing a suit and a blush that could rival a thousand brides...he could picture the white picket fence, and the 9 to 5, and he could picture them happy in a life that he knew he couldn’t have. 

And dad was fucking right. One day he could get comfortable. And it could all just go 

away. In the blink of an eye. It was better not to have it at all, to keep Castiel safe, and far away from that chance. “I can’t do this.”

“Shh,” Castiel soothed, “We don’t have to talk about this tonight.” 

Tears started falling down Dean’s cheeks steadily, and he nodded, pushing away from Castiel, opening his eyes again, “I can’t do this. We can’t do this.”

“We can’t hunt….or….we can’t do  _ us _ ?” He already knew the answer. Tears poured from his eyes, turning blue pools into waterfalls. He was shaking violently. 

Hunting demons would have been easier. Dean closed his eyes again, unable to face Castiel, unable to stay strong like he knew he had to. “We can’t…” he tried, “This is my life,” he told himself just as much as he was trying to tell Castiel, “Hunting is my life...there’s no...there’s no room for…” 

A million thoughts flashed through his mind.

_ There’s no room for swinging at the park. _

_ There’s no room for dipping fries in milkshakes. _

_ There’s no room for dancing in an empty house, or bathtubs full of bubbles, lit up with candles. _

_...No room for secrets, or games, or music, or glow-in-the-dark stars, or long drives until the last seconds of curfew, or daring climbs up the window in the middle of winter. _

_ There’s no room for kisses that make nothing else matter.  _

_ No place for sunshine in a gray life... _

_ Because you matter. Your life matters. And mine doesn’t. _

_ There’s no room for us.  _

“Dean, please, please don’t say it. We can figure this out. We can find a way. Please, don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave me. Please, Dean, please.” 

He clung tighter to Dean’s chest.

Dean pushed back. “You think I’m strong, but I’m not, Cas. I couldn’t watch you die. I’d rather walk away and know you were okay and lose myself in the process, then put you in front of this. I thought I could get away with it, and I was fucking stupid, and I was wrong, and I’m sorry. I can’t....”

Castiel’s devastating sadness instantly switched to boiling rage,”Can’t what Dean? Love me?” he spat, sitting up and brushing tears away, “It’s a bit late for that. Do you honestly think that’s going to stop just because you’re pushing me away? It won’t. And obviously you’re worried about protecting me from what’s out there, but whatever’s out there already knows you love me too. I don’t see what being happy together has any bearing on it. Either way they’ll use me as bait or kill me to try to get to you, and if we just go back to being oblivious than you could get hurt again from being rusty. The smartest thing is for us to both hone our skills and stay safe. Safe and in love and not change a damn thing about it, because there’s no use being miserable the rest of our lives on what ifs.” 

“I’m not rusty,” Dean defended, sitting up hastily, used to shooting the words back at his dad, not at his boyfriend, “And don’t you dare fucking say that to me...ever! Don’t you ever fucking say those words to me. You’re not gonna die. You understand me...that’s not gonna happen. I would wrestle you out of death’s hands myself if I had to but you’re not going to fucking die. You’re not.” His eyes were fixed on Castiel, daring him to challenge him.

“Everyone dies some time, Dean. I’m not going to let something like death or fear or your stubborn ass come between us. I want to be with you forever, however long that is.”

He kissed Dean’s lips. 

Salty tears ran over Castiel’s lips as Dean pulled just far enough from them to mumble, “I don’t want you to die..” He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to push him away, or pull him closer, so his arms just hung heavily on his loved one. “I don’t want you to die.”  _ I’m killing you. It might as well be me. I’m a fucking monster. _

“I’m not going to for a long time, Dean. Come here, baby,” Castiel said, wrapping his arms tight around Dean, “You don’t have to be the strong one all of the time.”

Dean returned the embrace, letting himself fall into bed with Castiel tight in his arms. If he were to walk away, there would be no bottlecap to put in his memory box. Castiel Novak was a scar that could never heal, his heart that would simply stop working. Dean’s fingers curled into the fabric of the AC/DC shirt, pulling on it, nuzzling his face into the warm skin of Castiel’s neck, letting out a painful sob, as he kept bunching the fabric up until there was no more of it to hold in his fingers. It wasn’t sand in an hourglass, but at that moment, it felt just as fragile.

He wanted Castiel just like this: in his arms- safe, and warm, and stubborn, and his, and not going anywhere. 

He didn’t want another worn out picture in a box under his bed that he cried about when no one else was around.

 

* * *

 

 

February 13, 1999

 

“Dean-” Came two voices into fuzzy dreams, with a loud thumping on his door, and the smell of greasy breakfast food. 

Castiel was sitting up, straight as an arrow beside him, clutching the blankets to him as though they were both naked, glasses already on, staring at the door, where John was pounding, and calling him at the same time.

Dean kicked his comforter off as John bellowed, “Get decent and let’s get this show on the road. I brought breakfast- we’re going on a hunt.”

Dean was out of bed, his bare feet on the stained carpet, throwing open the door without so much as a muffled ‘morning’ or a kiss to Castiel. “What the hell do you mean we’re going on a hunt?”

Sam was already in the hallway, backpack over his shoulders, a Sausage McMuffin in his hand, hunting bag over another shoulder, “Morning, Dean.”

Dean looked less than amused as he threw on a pair of boots, not bothering with a coat as he brushed past Sam and followed John out the door, where he was loading up the trunk of the Impala, “I said what the hell do you mean ‘we’re going on a hunt’?”

John rustled in the front seat, tossing Dean another McDonald’s bag, “Might wanna start teaching that boy of yours how to load a gun, or in this case, swing a machete.”

“Last night I said…”

“I heard what you said, Dean. And I heard what he said. And now I’m telling you that you’re going on a hunt, and he can decide whether he’s going or not. I think he made his intentions pretty damn clear last night, and I think that your intentions with him are pretty clear, too. I said get ready. Don’t make me ask again.”

It probably wouldn’t have been a wise idea to say no again to John when his mood seemed better, regardless of the large knot and bruise on his head. John turned and went back into the trailer, letting the screen creak shut behind him.

“So,” Sam said, with a shrug setting his hunting gear on the ground next to the trunk of the Impala, “Dad found out?”

Dean stared blankly at Sam, like it could ever have been that simple of an explanation, “Yeah, they had a great introduction. Dad walked in on us fucking, got into a fight, then Cas hit him over the head with the English Lit book, and now we’re going on a hunt.”

“That was Cas? I thought it was you, or he just got in another bar fight or passed out. How the hell did that even happen?” 

“Dad was...y’know...being dad,” Dean shrugged, “He was drunk. You haven’t even heard the best part yet,” Dean said, laughing darkly, “Cas knew we’re hunters already,”

He watched Sam open his mouth with the same surprise both he and his dad had exhibited the night before. “How…?”

“I don’t know, Sam. He’s just fucking smart.”

“Shit...I can’t believe Dad caught you fucking Cas.” 

“Fuck off, Sam,” Dean muttered, turning red. 

“It wasn’t exactly like that,” Castiel replied with a blush, coming out, dressed, but still with bedhead. 

“ You mean…,” Sam started before Dean cut him off. 

“Fuck  _ off _ Sam.” Dean’s face heated up even more, as he turned to Cas, not looking at him, digging his foot into the snow instead, “If you want to go on a hunt, you better get ready. Dad doesn’t like waiting,” he murmured, “I’d still rather you didn’t.”

“I’m going,” Castiel said assertedly, shrugging as he looked down at his packed bag. He was already fully dressed, He crossed his arms. “I’m ready, Dean.”

“No you’re not,” Dean challenged, quirking an eyebrow, leaning back on the car and smiling sweetly, still bitter, “Did you call your mom?”

“I don’t have to,” Castiel retorted, “She’s knows I’m spending the whole weekend with you. It’s….Valentine’s Day.” The last part was said a little deflated, maybe even somewhat defeated. He suddenly found himself longing for pizza and Titanic and cuddling on the couch. 

“Yeah, it is,” Dean replied, “And you don’t think she’ll check on you? There’s no reception in the middle of nowhere.” He frowned, sympathetically watching his loved one’s features diminish into disappointment. He brushed over his hand, “Come on, I have to get dressed anyway.” He led the way with Cas back into the house.

As Dean got dressed, and Castiel called his mom, Dean wasn’t entirely certain what he was feeling- whether this was a funeral march or birth of something...it was definitely new entirely. 

He dug into the back of his closet, pulling out a bag full of his hunting gear he had just hidden away from Cas the day before, and hurled it out of the closet. He pulled on jeans, and flannel, and threw the bag over his shoulder, shutting off the lights. Castiel was already waiting for him.

He wasn’t ready for this. Neither of them were.

But life changing events so rarely waited for the green light.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam riding shotgun was definitely a change. Dean couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d been in the back seat of the Impala. He handed Cas a sausage biscuit, before eating one himself, waiting for John to come out and lock up the trailer.

“So, where are we going?” Castiel asked, looking at the biscuit before biting into it.

“Don’t know, never do,” Sam offered, slurping an orange juice and munching a hashbrown. 

John slammed the trunk of the Impala. After the night before, Castiel instinctively jumped, grabbing Dean’s hand. John sat in the front seat and fired the engine up. N’Sync’s  _ Bye Bye Bye _ started blaring through the speakers. John quirked an eyebrow, popping the tape out and passing it to the backseat as though he couldn’t get rid of the thing fast enough. 

“It’s mine, sir,” Castiel offered meekly, taking the tape and stuffing it in his backpack. 

John didn’t reply, merely scowling as he turned the radio on. 

The radio station was a little different as well. Replaced with what was both John and Dean’s normal classic rock jam, was the oldies station that Cas and Dean listened to every day on the way home from school. The station was currently playing one of Dean’s favorite oldies songs, and even though he was still a little flushed from his dad discovering the sappy love mixtape he’d made for Cas, he couldn’t help but hide their entwined fingers beneath his jacket in the car, stroking Cas’ thumb to the tune as he hummed so lowly it couldn’t be heard up front,

 

_ Earth angel, earth angel,  _

_ Please be mine,  _

_ My darling dear,  _

_ Love you all the time...  _

_ I'm just a fool.  _

_ A fool in love with you. _

 

John couldn’t help but smile, even though his doo-wop days went up in flames the same day Mary had. This song bore happy meaning- days of dating, before so many beers- hell, before kids. Before anything had changed for the worst. Back when ignorance was bliss, and demons were scary stories, and the world was shit because of war, not hell on Earth.

The happy memories of his wife soon ran bitter, as they always eventually did. The next song that came on was too much. It was always too much, even though Sam and Dean had always loved to sing along. John had taken the cassette and ripped the film out when Dean was young after he’d taught it to Sammy. It’d been harsh, but he couldn’t bear it.

 

_ Hey Jude, don't make it bad _

_ Take a sad song and make it better _

_ Remember to let her into your heart _

_ Then you can start to make it better _

 

Mary always used to sing it to the kids, especially before bed, and all John could think about was that night in Sam’s nursery, with blood and fire. He turned the radio off and they drove for a few miles in silence. Castiel looked so nervous that he might throw up, and John decided to take pity on the poor kid and popped open the glove compartment. He rustled around before finding a Kansas Cassette and slamming it into the tape player.

“Hope you’ve taught this boy a thing or two about real music, Dean,”

Dean nodded, drawing Cas in closer, until his head was resting against Dean’s shoulder. Dean smiled into his hair, unable to keep away from him, contain the little bit of freedom he was given, instead, letting it grow like a fire, “Yes, sir.”

John ignored them, keeping his eyes on the road. He was focused back on the hunt more than ever now. He wanted to push those feelings back down and feel bones break beneath his knuckles instead. More importantly, he needed his boys sharp. He couldn’t afford to lose another Winchester. The Novak boy didn’t seem to be going anywhere any time soon, so it was best that he at least learn the basics, for his own safety. 

Dean was just the opposite, a long standing tradition. Cautious and meticulous as he was when he was behind the wheel, it was another thing entirely when John put himself in the driver’s seat instead. The whirring of the wheels on asphalt was almost a lullaby to him, and the soft shaking of the car had him soothed back into sleep just like it had during the long road trips when he could curl up entirely in the back seat, arm protectively around baby Sammy.

So much had changed since then, and yet, nothing had. They would always end up right where they started, no matter how far they’d come.

The last thing he remembered was the cry of the Kansas cassette to one of his and Sam’s favorites.

_ Carry on my wayward son… _

_ There’ll be peace when you are done… _

_ Lay your weary head to rest…. _

_ Don’t you cry no more. _

 

* * *

 

 

Dean’s head clunked against Castiel’s, causing him to bite down on his own tongue as the Impala veered off road, and onto a one lane gravel drive, “Shit.”

“Mornin’,” John grumbled from the front seat, handing Dean a stick of beef jerky, “Glad to see you boys joining us.”

The trees gave way to a small clearing with a cabin that Dean instantly recognized as one of Uncle Bobby’s, who was sitting on the porch cleaning a double barrel shotgun. 

Castiel rubbed his eyes and recognized the man cleaning the gun. The Impala came to a stop. 

“We’re here,” John replied, handing  a stick of jerky to Castiel before climbing out of the car. 

Dean climbed out of the car, distracted, calling after his dad, “This close to home?”

He opened the trunk of the Impala, loading himself down with hunting gear, feeling a little uneasy. This cabin was only a few hours outside of Sioux Falls, and it did nothing for Dean’s prolonged regret of getting Castiel involved in the first place.

“Vamp nest,” John replied, “Needs cleared out.”

“Besides,” Bobby chimed in standing up and helping take some of the load off of Dean, “Don’t you boys have school on Monday? Can’t go too far. Especially this one.” 

He clapped Castiel on the shoulder.  “Don’t be nervous. We all had to start somewhere.” He smiled. 

Castiel smiled back, “Thanks Bobby. I’m gonna be a hunter, too.”

Dean brushed past Bobby, avoiding both of their gazes, obviously still not over Castiel’s decision, as he went inside the house without a word. The drive here had been easier. Music about happiness, about their relationship rather than this fucked up mess of hunting and reality. Now, it came crashing down again.

Bobby turned, frowning at the door before facing Castiel again, “He’ll come around. Why don’t you all come in. I shot a couple rabbits, made a nice stew” 

Sam smiled, Gameboy in hand, “Uncle Bobby you’re the best. Come on Cas. It tastes amazing.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Even for his bad mood, Dean couldn’t help but consume two bowls of stew...even if it was a little aggressively. Castiel learned quickly that there weren’t really such things as table manners in a room full of hunters in their natural habitat.

Once the entire pot of stew was gone, bellies were full, and more than a few empty beer cans littered the table, it was time to get down to business. John plopped the lore books out on the table, in front of Castiel. 

“Alright kid, this is our mission. Real vampires, not that Buffy shit. They look like this,” he pointed at a picture in one of the books. “It’s a small nest. Only about five. Good first trip.” 

“I’m ready to learn,” Castiel said eagerly.

“You’re not going in. You’re going to watch,” Dean said defiantly, tilted back in his chair, a good portion of the beers missing placed in front of him. The chair creaked. 

“Dean’s right. You’ll just be watching this first time,” Bobby agreed. 

Castiel grabbed the book up and started reading. “I’m still eager to learn. And I’m a fast learner too.” 

“Took ’em awhile before I could go too, “ Sam replied, still playing Gameboy, “You’ll get there one day, Cas.” 

“Has it occurred to any of you how fucking ridiculous this is?” Dean said, letting the chair fall on all four legs, hard.

John looked like another fight was about to start but Bobby quickly defused the situation. He put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Come on, son. Walk it off. Come sit outside with me for a few.” 

A sickening pit formed in the bottom of Castiel’s stomach,  _ I hate seeing him act like his Dad.  _

Dean stood up, walking outside with Bobby, not bothering to look back as the screen door slammed shut. He’d thought he was over it...he really did. And then they’d gotten here, and it was real. Cas was here, in danger. Putting himself in danger. “Don’t tell me I don’t have the right to be pissed off,” Dean started.

“That’s not what I’m saying at all, Dean. I’m saying that you’re looking at this the wrong way. What I wouldn’t give to be able to go back in time and teach my wife how to hunt, for your Dad to teach your Mom. They might still be around today if we had. You chose him to be in your life. This is part of your life too. If you really love him, you have to let him make his own choices.” 

“That’s just it, Bobby...what about my choices? Don’t I ever get a say?” Dean asked, “What if I just wanted to walk away?”

“You know as well as I do that you can’t just walk away, Dean. Doesn’t work like that. Besides, doesn’t mean something won’t cross your path at some point.Wouldn’t it be better if he was prepared?” 

“It’s not...it’s not like that, Bobby. He’s not cut out for this. He’s clumsy, and awkward, and I don’t think I’d ever be able to teach him how to clean a gun properly, let alone see him use it. I don’t think he has it in him...the ability to kill. It’s one of the things I love most about him. I don’t want to change him.”

“Now here me out, son, before you go on the defense. What if something attacks him….and you’re not there? You’re a Winchester, plenty of things out there willing to do whatever it takes to get at you or your dad.” 

Dean’s blood ran cold. It wasn’t as though he didn’t think about it often enough, “I wish I would have never gotten him into this,” finally came out. “I tried to leave. I just...I’m too selfish.”

“Look here. You’re about the least selfish person I know, especially with the way you take care of Sam. You can’t help who you fall in love with, and you can’t go back. All you can do is help him help himself.” 

“I can’t stand it, Bobby,” Dean admitted, going to lean over the fence on the back porch, staring out into the woods, “All three of them, just acting like this is normal. Like it’s not lives at stake...his life at stake. Sure, I can try to teach him how to shoot a gun, protect himself. I’ll go over the lore with him if that’s what’s necessary to keep him safe. Taking him on a hunt to prove a point is unnecessary. There’s no reason for him to be out here.”

“You know better than anyone that you never truly believe in something until you see it up close and personal,” Bobby actually laughed a little, “Never thought I’d see you more protective of someone than you are with Sam. I remember the fight you two had back then when he wanted to be a hunter too.” 

“It’s not like he was ever going to have a choice, not really. I just wanted him to be a little older first. Cas has a choice, Bobby. It’s not worth throwing his life away. I’m not worth…”

“Now you stop right there, Dean. You said it yourself. It’s his choice. And he chose you and he chose this. Now, quit your bellyaching, get in there and make the most of it.”

Dean sulked in silence for a few seconds before opening his mouth again,“He hit Dad in the head with a schoolbook.”

“Hell, then he’s definitely a keeper,” Bobby smiled. 

Dean took one last glance out into the vast emptiness of the woods, before turning back around, “You’ll help me keep an eye on him?” he asked, hesitantly.

“I always keep an eye on all my boys.”

Something about that made him feel a little better.

“Bobby?”

“Yeah, son?”

“I...I wish you were my dad.” It was a thought that was never let out, no matter how often it crossed Dean’s mind. He presumed that Bobby knew it as well as he did, and there had never been a need for the actual words.

“Me too, son. Me too. Don’t go telling your Dad that though, ya hear?” 

He clapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder. 

“Loud and clear,” Dean confirmed, before sliding the door back open to rejoin the group.

Castiel held a machete in his hands, not seeing Dean’s return, as he asked John, “So beheading them is the only way to kill them? No stakes or fire or sunlight? And they don’t turn to dust?” 

John made eye contact with Dean instead. “No dust. Forget all that vampire shit you’ve seen on T.V. and movies and stick to reading. You look like you’re good at that.” 

“Dead man’s blood is like poison, and they don’t like sunlight...but it only slows them down,” Dean agreed, “Doesn’t kill ‘em. But you won’t have to worry about that.” Dean came up behind Castiel, repositioning his fingers to get a firmer grip on the machete, “Hard and fast.”

“Hard and fast,” Castiel repeated, taking it all in. “Sunlight. What’s dead man’s blood?” 

“Just what it sounds like, kid,” John answered, “We take it from the morgue when we can.” 

Dean was surprised at how little the information seemed to phase Castiel. “It really isn’t Buffy. Just...be careful.”

“I will be, Dean. I promise,” Castiel nodded assertively, “Besides, I’m just watching.”

_ At last,  _ Dean thought,  _ Something we can agree on. _

“Best start teachin him how to shoot, Dean. He’s gotta start somewhere.” John replied, obviously having had his fill of teaching for the day. Not much had changed, there. John was never a patient teacher, and left most of the learning bit to Bobby.

Dean grabbed an empty plastic sack from the counter, filling it with the empty beer cans, “C’mon, babe.” He flushed, his cheeks turning crimson, realizing that he’d just let the pet name slip. He grabbed a small bag from the coat rack, before turning to Cas.

Castiel was an even brighter shade of red as he got up to follow Dean out back. “‘Thank you for the lesson, sir,” he added to John, “I’ll catch up on my reading.”

Dean grabbed both of their coats, tossing Castiel’s at him as he led the way past the back porch, through the clearing and into the woods. After a few minutes of silence, they came to a smaller clearing, with an old, dilapidated fence in the middle- as though at one point, it had been separating property. Now, it was for target practice, and had been since Dean could remember.

Dean set to work, digging the cans into snow atop the fence, until there was a line of them distributed. He turned around again, sighing, “I don’t have to like this, you know.”

“I know,” Castiel said softly, looking down.  _ I hate when he’s angry with me.  _

Dean dug into the bag, pulling out a pistol, but not loading it. “This is what you’re gonna practice with. First, you need to learn the basics.” Dean stepped closer, feeling as though maybe he were being as cold as the snow. He pointed to the top of the gun, “Front sight,” then to the back, “Rear sight. Both just as important as whatever you’re targeting. Without getting comfortable with that, you’ll miss and the gun’s pointless, especially in a hunt. Most it’ll do is attract other monsters. Then you’ve got a mess. You don’t just point the thing at your target like you do on TV. You need to get comfortable. You’ll line the target up with the front sight. Easiest way to do that…” Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand, folding it until it was in a ‘thumbs up’ position. 

“Say your target is that middle can there. Look at it. Keep looking…” Dean slowly lifted Castiel’s thumb, “Focus on the target, and slowly bring your thumb into focus, lining it up with the target. That’s your front sight. Make sure that the back sight and front sight are even. That’s how you’ll hit the can. It’s easy to lose focus, especially the first time...but you need to stay calm, and remember to look at that front, or you’re gonna miss. I don’t want you to miss.” His hand gripped tighter around Castiel’s.

“I don’t want to miss either,” Castiel whispered.  

“The next thing that’s gonna catch you off guard is gonna be the kick. You’re gonna be sore after the first time. But, that’s no reason you can’t be a good shot. Don’t focus on pulling the trigger. When your finger’s on the trigger, you stay focused on the front sight and your target. Don’t lose that focus as your finger comes in, nice and slow and even. If you keep the focus, you shouldn’t have as much of a jerk, or kick. If you don’t keep focus, you might go low a couple feet. That was Sam’s problem when he first started. So, focus on a nice, slow motion.” Dean held the unloaded gun up, pointing it at one of the targets, demonstrating. “Just like this.” 

His body stiffened as he got into stance, his eyes fully on the front of the gun as his finger slowly pulled in the trigger and he breathed out. 

Castiel watched, a bit in awe, before asking, “Can I watch you first? Can I see you shoot?”

Dean nodded, stepping away, pulling bullets out of the bag and loading the gun. He stepped back. “Get behind me.”

Castiel took a few steps back behind Dean. It was a completely new side of his boyfriend, and he was a little ashamed to admit that he found it sexy as hell. The weather may have been cold, but his blood was hot. 

Once Castiel was safely behind him, Dean didn’t hold back. “Ears,” he warned. And as Castiel clapped his hands over his ears, Dean let go. He took it more seriously than maybe he ever had before- and one by one, the cans flew off the fence. He didn’t miss a single one.

Castiel’s mouth was slightly ajar. He was amazed at how good of a shot his boyfriend was. 

Dean went and collected the cans, replacing them- each with a new hole almost center. “Questions?”

“I’ll try. Just...don’t laugh at me. Ok?” Castiel looked a bit nervous, blushing slightly. 

Dean reloaded the gun before slipping it into Castiel’s hands and stepping behind him. It really wasn’t something to laugh about. “Remember to line up your sights.”

Castiel looked at the sights, trying to line them up with the can. He pulled the trigger and a bullet shot into the snow two feet in front of the post. He jumped a little at the kickback. 

Dean moved closer, almost like putt-putt at the arcade again. “Lean forward, just a little,” he breathed against Castiel’s neck. “Like an isosceles triangle. There ya go. Don’t focus on pulling the trigger.” Dean examined the angle, “Deep breaths, line up your sights. Don’t lose focus on the sights. Just let your finger slowly pull in.”

The second shot hit the fence, blasting through it and knocking a can over in the process.

They were going to be outside for awhile.

Castiel was determined not to give up. He raised the gun again, focusing on the sights. This time a can fell to the ground. Castiel beamed. 

“Again. One out of three and you’ll be dead,” Dean said, feeling a cold chill run up his spine. He didn’t like the voice that had just come out of his mouth. He recognized it all too well: his dad’s.

 

* * *

 

February 14, 1999 (Valentine's Day/The Hunt)

 

They waited until the next morning, just after the sun had peeked out, to pile into the Impala and head to the nest. Wasn’t worth risking it to be out into the night. They parked a fair bit away to get the advantage on the enemy, before Dean, John, and Bobby climbed out, leaving Sam and Castiel in the back, with the doors locked. 

Dean motioned for Sam to crank the window down, which he did, rolling his eyes as Dean poked his fingers through the crack in the window, “What are you gonna do?”

“I’ll protect him,” Sam vowed, machete in hand, which looked almost too big for him, “Just hurry up and go.” 

Castiel had a machete himself. He felt a little embarrassed with someone so much younger than him being his defender. “I’ll be fine, Dean. Don’t worry.” 

Dean’d been told that all morning. _ Don’t worry.  _ Didn’t make it any easier to walk away, leaving the two people he loved most in the world alone in a car close to a vamp’s nest. “Stay in the car. Don’t come out. No matter what. Understand?”

The two of them nodded. 

“I’m serious.”  _ I wouldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to either of you. _

“Come on, son,” Bobby warned gently, “Before your Dad gets pissed.” 

Dean reluctantly turned away from the car, and he didn’t make the mistake of turning to look back. As soon as Castiel was out of view, Dean went into full hunter mode, down to business, and wanting to get the job done fast, so he could get back to Sam and Cas. John was already a few feet ahead, but Dean and Bobby closed the distance quickly enough. 

They crouched beside a beat up station wagon, machetes in hand as John turned to whisper the plan, “You two take the back entrance. I’ll cover the front. Chop our way through to the middle. Clear?” 

“Clear,” Bobby replied. Dean nodded in agreeance. 

John was reckless as ever, not wanting to wait. He went straight for the front door, opening it slowly. Three vamps were asleep in the living room, two in one bedroom and the last in the other bedroom. . John ripped the thick drapes down, letting the sunlight in. The vamps in the living room jumped up, just as Bobby and Dean came through the kitchen.  The place was small enough that the only thing separating the kitchen from the living room was a small hallway with the two bedrooms and a small bathroom. 

John began in the living room shooting one vamp with dead man’s blood before they had the chance to get up. The other two rose to their feet quickly, lunging at him. He shot one in the face to slow them down, while the second one came at him full force. The vamp shoved John back against the wall, teeth bared. John pushed back, hacking down with the machete. The vamp went to grab the blade but John had such force that the vamp’s fingers fell to the floor. The head soon followed. 

Dean and Bobby took care of the bedrooms, separating in the hallway, as Dean took on the one vamp and Bobby ganked the other two. Dean was fast and efficient. He had to be,  _ Cas is waiting for me, He needs me.  _ When Dean’s vamp laid dead on the floor, he went to the living room to check on Dad instead of the bedroom to check on Bobby. 

He saw John tangling with one vamp, one dead, and another lying on the couch. Dean quickly decapitated the one dosed with dead man’s blood, as Bobby came into the room. John knocked the last vamp to the ground, kicking it, before his blade came down, severing the head. 

  

* * *

 

 

“Does it normally take this long?” Castiel asked Sam. 

“They haven’t been gone that long,” Sam replied, drumming his fingers boredly on the door of the Impala. He looked more than less amused to be here, pried away from his Gameboy and even more importantly Amber, and on Valentine’s Day weekend no less. Castiel felt bad for him. This wasn’t the most ideal situation, but at least he and Dean were together. 

Castiel clutched one of the lore books in hand, machete in the other. Reading helped keep him calm and helped him learn more about their present situation. He kept glancing up to make sure vamps weren’t coming out to the car. 

“Fuck,” Sam said softly. 

“What?” Castiel replied, head jerking up and jumping a little. Sam pointed at two men heading towards the house. 

“More vamps?” Castiel asked, “Should we go warn them?” 

“Not vamps,” Sam answered. He’d seen their eyes. “How’s your Latin?” 

“Nonexistent.” 

“Well you’ve always said you’re a fast learner,” Sam nodded to the book, “Page 69.” 

The glass of Sam’s window shattered and one of the demons had Sam by the throat before he could process what was happening. Instinct kicked in and Castiel stabbed it in the face with the machete, his heart leaping into his chest. The thing had a giant blade through one eye, and it smiled back at him. 

 

* * *

 

 

 “Pretty easy,” Bobby said, wiping off his machete, “Just the clean up left. I’ll go get the boys from the car. He needs to see this part too.”

Dean nodded in agreeance, “I’ll get them.”

“Too easy,” John said gruffly, spitting on the floor, “Almost like…” 

The front door flew off it’s hinges, hitting Bobby. He went down like a ton of bricks and was out cold. Two demons stepped through the door. One smiled at Dean. “Hello, Winchester, remember me? Time to make good on that little promise of ours. Told you I’d roast Sammy and Castiel up nice for you...didn’t expect you to make it so easy by bringing them into the roasting pit.”

Dean held his weapon tighter, cold chills draining him of color, “Dad,” he growled, eyes fixated on the demon, “This is the demon. The one back in January…works for yellow eyes.”

“You do remember,” the demon smiled, “Good, boy. Cause you’re gonna pay for what you did.”

John’s grip on the machete tightened. “Dean, get to the car and drive off. Do as I say.”

For once, Dean was halfway out the door before John even finished issuing his order. No man left behind was usually a pretty good motto to follow when it came to the family- but Dean was pretty sure Bobby and his dad could survive. He bolted for the back door, but the demon’s words stopped him in his tracks. 

“You mean the car where Sammy and Castiel are?” It smirked, “You think I forgot about them? Don’t worry, Dean, they’re still alive. I owe you that much. I’ll make it slow. Make you watch.” 

John lunged at them with the machete and Dean followed suit. The demons had blades of their own, not quite as big as the machetes, but still just as effective. One of the demon’s cut John against the shoulder. 

“Sammy. Castiel. Daddy...Uncle Bobby. Roast them one by one like little marshmallows just like your mommy. Save you for last, Dean Winchester. That’s what you deserve after sending me back to hell.” 

“Don’t you ever just shut up?” Dean growled, his blade against the demon’s, “This time I’ll send you back for good!”

 

* * *

 

 

The demon with the machete in his face loosened his grip enough so that Sam could reach his bag, grabbing the bottle of holy water and splashing the demon. It hissed and pulled back away from the window. 

Castiel started chanting the latin verses from the lore book and in seconds the demon smoked out of the meatsuit. 

“Let’s go,” Sam called, halfway out the door already. “Stick to the Latin. We’ll fight them off until you finish.” 

Castiel jumped out of the car, trailing after Sam.  _ Please let him be okay. I’ll do anything. _

 

* * *

 

 

“You’ll never touch them,” Dean said through gritted teeth, trying his best to decapitate the damn thing, not sure whether or not that would finish it off. 

John managed to knock the blade out of the other demon’s hand, stabbing it a few times, before decapitating it. The demon smoked out. As John wheeled on the ringleader, the smoke was already leaving the meat suit’s body and going into Dean’s. 

Sam and Castiel came barging in through the doorway, looking both out of breath and ready to fight. 

“I’m glad you’re all ok,” Castiel replied, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“That ain’t Dean,”John said bitterly. 

“No, that’s not Dad. You know better, Sammy,” Dean countered.

“Only one way to find out,”Sam spat, “Latin, Cas.” 

Dean’s laugh was chilling, “Clever boy, Sammy,” he tapped his forehead, “Just like we always knew you would be.” Dean’s eyes flashed black, “But, are you sure you wanna do that?”

The demon put Dean’s machete against his own heart, “I could kill big brother here before you could get the first line out. Put the weapons down, boys- playtime is over. But where to begin…”

“Do as he says,” Castiel said, near to tears, “Please, don’t hurt him.”

“Aww, isn’t that sweet. The little lover, come to save the day. Smart, this one. You wouldn’t stand a chance. Wouldn’t even be here if he had his say about it,” he tapped Dean’s head, “Keep you like all of this other bullshit, buried in the dark. So dark up here, Dean-o. C’mon, aren’t you gonna let him prove himself? Give him a chance?”

John gave Castiel a look that said keep him busy, so Sam intervened. 

“Get out of my brother, or I’ll send your ass straight back to Hell myself.” 

“It’s funny when you try to protect him. Cute even. He’s always the one protecting you, protecting both of you. And now the last thing he’ll see before I kill him is the light leaving your eyes and knowing he’s the reason you and Cas and Daddy are all dead.”

A chill went down Castiel’s spine that made all the blood in his body grow cold.  It wasn’t Dean. He knew that. But the thing looked like Dean, had Dean’s voice. It was the most disturbing thing he’d ever witnessed. He didn’t know what John’s plan was, but he hoped he hurried. 

“I won’t let you,” Castiel said quietly, “I know. I know he’s somewhere in there and he can fight you, claw his way back up to the surface. But if not, than I won’t let you touch them.” 

Castiel held the machete in shaky hands. Sam and John both gave Castiel a look of shock. The lore book was still clutched in one hand, opened to the exorcism page. 

“Look at the balls on you,” the demon laughed, “I don’t remember them being so big when they were slapping against Dean’s ass. You really think you can do it? Kill your own boyfriend? This ain’t some tv show, kid, and you’re in way over your head.”

“No, I don’t,” he admitted, dropping the machete. 

The next thing the demon felt was a jolt of electricity from a taser in Castiel’s hand, making it drop the machete. Sam and John looked even more surprised, but didn’t waste time. Sam kicked the machete across the room, John grabbed the demon in a bear hug. 

“Sammy, finish the demon trap,” John spat, gesturing to a half drawn symbol in blood on the floor, “You got spray paint boy? It’ll go faster.” 

Sam began working on the demon trap, Castiel began chanting in Latin. 

“He doesn’t even want you here,” the demon hissed at Castiel, “This is exactly why. Hell, he doesn’t even want to be here himself. You hear that Daddy? No family business once you’re through.” 

John didn’t budge. If the demon was perturbing him at all, he was doing a good job of not showing it. Castiel wasn’t phased, he kept chanting. 

The demon’s head flew back, connecting with John’s nose and blood squirted. Smoke started coming out of Dean’s mouth. 

“Please, baby, it hurts,” Dean pleaded, “You’re killing me too.” 

Castiel knew better. He’d spent all morning and most of last night reading up on the lore. He kept chanting, even though his body shook at seeing something that looked like Dean be so evil. The demon smoked out and Dean went limp in John’s arms, coughing and sputtering. John let go of him, and Castiel rushed him in a big hug. 

“Dean! Baby...” 

Dean’s eyes were wide, as he looked between everyone, “Is it out? Is it…” his arms tightened instinctively around Cas.

“I killed it, Dean,” Castiel tried to say reassuringly, running his fingers through Dean’s hair. 

“It ain’t dead,” John corrected, “But it is back where it belongs. For now.” 

Sam went over and flipped the door off of Bobby, John came over and checked Bobby’s vitals before he and Sam lifted him up and started carrying him to the car. 

Dean felt his body shaking, but still almost felt as though he weren’t a part of it. The thing had been in his head. It had been him. It had learned his fears, mocked them even while it was talking to Sam and Cas. And, it had told him that this was only the beginning. There were big plans for the Winchesters...and…

He looked at Sam as he walked out the door, trying to forget. Because it was lying. Of course the thing was fucking lying.

“I’m fine, Cas. Thanks to you. You okay, Willow?” he teased gently.

Castiel lit up, blushing. “Yeah, I’m ok.” 

He nodded towards the door, “Let’s get outta here?” he reached for Cas’ hand, lacing their fingers together.

“Dean?” 

“Yeah, sunshine...” 

“I’m glad you’re safe.” 

He squeezed Dean’s hand tighter, and they walked out together- just like it should be. 

The storm had passed, at least for now...and maybe walking away from it would make them better.

 

* * *

 

When they arrived back at the cabin, Castiel had taken charge. He’d made an ice pack for the goose egg on Bobby’s head, who had finally come around and was now sprawled out on the couch. Next he began sterilizing everything so that he could start stitching John’s shoulder. 

“You ever done this before, boy?” John asked, beer already in hand. 

“No sir, but I want to be a nurse one day, and I want to help.”

“No better place to start,” John replied, “Not like we need the best stitch job. It’s just a flesh wound. Perfect place for beginners.” 

“Can’t be worse than the first time Sammy stitched,” Dean shrugged, shooting a playful look at Sam.

“Stitching isn't my thing,” Sam replied, not bothering to look up from his Gameboy.

Castiel looped the thread in the needle, before beginning to stitch John’s shoulder. He didn’t even flinch. Castiel had the feeling he’d be getting plenty of practice now. 

Dean knelt down beside Castiel, looking over his shoulder, examining the tiny, precise stitches as they went in, “You got this, babe?” he said, not even blushing at the word this time, “I’m gonna make dinner.”

Castiel nodded, focused on the task at hand. 

“You did good kid. I underestimated you. Not only can you stitch, but you saved our asses today, you and Sam both. Good work.” 

He took a long drink of his beer. 

“Thank you, sir,” Castiel replied back. 

John took another long drink of his beer, thinking for a moment before opening his mouth, “I’m sorry about your damn flowers, Cas. We’ll head back early. It’s still Valentine’s Day, right? And...I’m gonna stand guard. Not gonna take any chances. You two can have the other bedroom.”

“We couldn’t…” Castiel began. 

Dean stared at the venison burgers simmering on the stove, batting them around a bit with the spatula. He didn’t bother to interrupt the bonding moment between his dad, and boyfriend- as though, maybe if he said something- the moment would end. He smiled. He could get used to this crazy kind of normal.

“I ain't taking no for an answer, boy.” John cut him off, “Now finish stitching me so I can have some of those burgers and fries.” 

Dean was about ready to inform his dad that there was still a bit of time before dinner would be finished when he heard Cas speak up again. “Maybe I'm not the only one you should apologize to, sir.” 

The room grew so deadly silent a pin could’ve been heard clattering to the floor. Sam's fingers stopped on the Gameboy and he and Bobby were both staring at Castiel like he was a dead man.  Dean turned around, “Cas,” he warned, too little, too late, as he looked to his dad to gauge the next move. It was almost like they were at a circus, and Cas was poking a hungry lion, and the audience could only wait to see if it would bite.

“I'm sorry Dean,” John mumbled, surprising everyone in the room “You know how I get sometimes, when I drink too much,” he left it at that.

“It's…” Dean started, a bit surprised, flushing at the sudden attention as he turned back to the food, murmuring out the rest, “Don't worry about it, sir. I’m fine.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I'm sorry too, you know,” Dean mumbled as he closed the door to the spare bedroom, drawing Castiel tighter into his embrace, yawning into his messy hair.

“For what?” Castiel yawned back. 

“For the things I said. For doubting you. You're… You're fucking amazing, Cas. I mean it.”

“It was nothing. Just some reading,” Castiel shrugged. He buried his face in the crook of Dean's neck as they laid back in bed.

“I wasn't only talking about the hunting,” Dean said, smiling and rolling over, letting Castiel fall back into the pillows as Dean climbed on top of him, lips connecting as his weight shifted on top of his loved one.

“Baby, I can't think with you on top of me like that,” Castiel whispered, moaning slightly. 

“Then don't think,” Dean teased, bending his head and kissing Cas’ earlobe.  _ Just exist, here, with me. _

Dean could feel Castiel getting hard beneath him, before a soft sigh escaped his lips. “Oh God, Dean.” 

_ I could've lost him today,  _ Dean thought, as his hips bumped against Cas’, and his fingers quickly went to his lover's belt, unbuckling it before getting distracted and raising his shirt, sinking lower to kiss his hip bones, his stomach.  _ I’m not gonna take that chance again. If today proved anything, it’s that we’re better together. _

“You're beautiful,” Dean said, looking up from his assault of kisses to watch Castiel blush in the dark.

“Dean," Castiel smiled, turning the shade of red Dean had wanted, "I love you,” Castiel replied, bending down and taking Dean's shirt off. He kissed his neck, his shoulders, his chest, before grabbing Dean's belt. 

“Easy there, tiger,” Dean's voice dropped an octave, and he smirked, “What's the rush?” He took Cas’ wrists, pinning them above his head, letting their bodies create friction. “It's Valentine's Day. Maybe I wanna take my time with you.” They both knew better. The tension between their bodies had been building all night with stolen glances, silent happiness that they were both all right, along with the buzz from the hunt.

“Happy Valentine's day,” Castiel answered, reaching up to kiss him softly. 

Dean took the moment, cradling the back of Castiel's head as he pressed against his lips, “Cas…?” he breathed when he pulled away, breathlessly looking at his angel.

“Yeah, Dean?” 

“Stay…” Dean started. 

“I'm not going anywhere,” Castiel interjected. 

Dean sat up, pulling Castiel into his arms before adjusting him on his lap, “No...I mean, forever. Stay with me forever. I don't know what that looks like. I just know I want…” he paused, drawing back to look him in the eyes, “I need you there. So… Stay… Stay with me and don't give up.”

“Always,” Castiel said, resting his forehead gently against Dean’s until their lips drew together again and Dean’s heart skipped another beat. 

Because, maybe there was forever. Maybe there was something with someone who understood the life, who knew about it...who accepted him, and loved him regardless. Maybe it hadn’t been ideal, and it had been terrifying- but worth it in the end because it brought them here, brought them closer together, and made Dean decide right then on the future he wanted-

  _Marry me. Stay young with me forever. Let’s get away somewhere nothing exists but you and I. Let’s dance to oldies under the light of a million stars. Marry me, and let’s do all of that chick flick stuff our own way- with roses, and jell-o shots, and pop music mixed with the classics in all the wrong ways that feel right because they’re ours. Marry me and stay by my side. Become one with me. Take my name, and I’ll give you the world. Anything...anything you want. I’ll be better for you and prove the world wrong, because we’re stronger together. Marry me and paint our white picket fence bright yellow like the sun, and we’ll try to match the walls to the blue in your eyes. Let’s grow up together, let’s grow old together. It’s you. It’s only you, it’s always you. Marry me, Castiel Novak._

 

_ One day, I’ll ask you. I swear I will. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songlist for Chapter: 
> 
> Dust in the Wind by Kansas  
> Lightning's Hand by Kansas  
> Bye Bye Bye by N*Sync  
> Earth Angel by the Penguins  
> Hey, Jude by the Beatles  
> Carry on Wayward Son by Kansas
> 
> __________________________________  
> Again, thank you so much for your comments, and taking the time to read the story. <3 You're the real hero!


	13. Sweet Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, memories may burn you, memories grow older as people can...they just get colder, like sweet sixteen.  
> Happy birthday, Castiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this Chapter: Explicit Sexual Content, Language, Also Copious Amounts of FLUFF as promised.
> 
> So- I'm not gonna spoil too much of this chapter for you all- other than that it is the end of the first PART of "I Love You Like the Stars Fall"...the next chapter posted will be the first chapter of Part II. Don't worry, it'll still be posted in this- because there's no time adjustment, it's just a new...hm...part *shrugs cryptically*. The story is about 1/3 of the way done at this point. You've still got a long way to go.  
> Anyhow, expect sickening amounts of beautiful Destiel fluff this chapter- IT'S CAS' BIRTHDAY!  
> Thank you so much for your continued love, and patience. Your comments mean the world to me, truly. They make my day, and keep me going even when I feel like I can't. I love you all, and I love being able to write this story for you all. I'd really, truly love to see comments on this chapter after you finish it.  
> The next chapter...not so fluffy. But, should be on schedule. (Mid to end of July)  
> I hope you are all doing beautifully. Again, thank you so much for all that you are. <3  
> 

* * *

* * *

 

_ April 9, 1999 _

 

“I’m happy,” Castiel smiled broadly at Dr. Fox, who was taking notes down, “I used to always wait for the bottom to fall out and the depression to come back, but I haven’t felt like that for months. I’ve never felt better. I’ve talked to Dean about my secrets, and he’s told me his. We have nothing left to hide from each other. And I’m actually looking forward to my birthday this year. Dean has something real special planned. It’s a surprise...obviously.” 

Doctor Fox finished scribbling his notes, before looking back up to Castiel, adjusting his glasses. “I’m glad to hear it, Castiel. Or, are you completely going by Cas, now?” he smiled, before looking back down at his notebook. “I just want to make sure that you’re happy with yourself. I think it’s clear that you’re happy in your relationship with Dean, and I’m glad that you have someone you feel so open about. But, let’s talk about you for a minute. Just you. Are you still wanting to be a nurse, are you still focusing on your own individual goals as well? Being in a relationship is a huge step; but, I want you to be able to find happiness in more than just your time with Dean. You’re both young, and have futures to plan for, goals of your own, and you are both individual human beings. Do you understand?”

“Well yeah, I understand. It’s just...Dean’s a huge part of what makes me happy. I want to build a life with him, grow old together, so most of the time when I think about the future he’s a huge part of that...usually down on one knee with a little black box and a silver band.” 

“Things have gotten that serious between the two of you?” Dr. Fox asked, putting the notebook to the side, and focusing his attention completely on Castiel.

“I thought that was pretty obvious from our sessions,” Castiel replied, looking a bit puzzled, “We have that forever love. That once in a lifetime kind of love. Of course I picture him being my husband one day. And with Dean graduating next year, hopefully it’ll be sooner than I think.”

Dr. Fox cleared his throat, “Well, Castiel...I…” he shifted in his seat a bit, leaning forward, as though trying to come up with the right words. He seemed to give up on it, “We’ll come back to the future. For now...why don’t we hear a little about what’s been going on in your life? You missed a couple of appointments, why don’t you fill me in?” He nodded to a green journal in Castiel’s lap.

 

_ February 15, 1999  _

 

_ I know I haven’t written in awhile, but it’s been a crazy weekend. Dean bought me flowers for Valentine’s day and we watched Titanic together. I finally got to meet Dean’s Dad, more than just in passing like at the hospital, and we went on a hunt together - the whole family. It was exciting. When we got home, Dean and I cuddled up and watched a rom com marathon, though we didn’t really pay much attention to the screen.  _

 

Castiel cleared his throat a bit, turning pages. “We can just....ah here’s an important one. Where I’m being more independent.”

 

_ March 12, 1999 _

_ Dean and I haven’t gotten to spend as much time together. He’s been really busy with football and spending time with his family. I’ve gotten to focus on studying, which regrettably I haven’t done in quite some time. Not that it’s affected my grades at all. I’ve also gotten a chance to spend more time with Balthazar. We fed duck to the ducks. We also went to see Office Space in theaters. It was Rated R, but they just let us in. Balthazar said the R stands for Roche and winked. We also read 1408 by Stephen King.  _

_ Dad took me to go get my driver’s license. I can’t believe I actually passed. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised; Dean’s a great teacher. Dad’s offered to let me borrow the car to go visit Dean, but I like it when he picks me up in the Impala.  _

_ But, it’s Friday night and I miss Dean. He’s spending the night doing family stuff and Balthazar’s away for the weekend in New York with his Dad. And I’m here...bored. Maybe I’ll see if Mom and Dad want to have a movie night or play a game of Monopoly or something.  _

 

_ P.S. I totally owned that Boardwalk and landed on free parking not once, not twice, but three times. I’m the Monopoly Master!!! _

 

  _April 7, 1999_

 

_ Dean and I went to the park for old times sake. We hadn’t been in ages what with winter and all, but also because he’s been so busy lately. It was so much fun! We were just like kids again, swinging on swings, sliding on the slides, playing tag (which Dean definitely had the advantage in). We watched Never Been Kissed, which I think Dean secretly liked. Then we went for burgers and milkshakes at the diner. We ended the night on the trunk of the Impala, listening to classic rock, and looking at the stars through my telescope Dean got me for Christmas. It was the best night of my life. I don’t know how he’ll be able to top this for my birthday, but he seems pretty confident that it’s going to be the best birthday ever. By now, I’ve learned not to doubt him.  _

 

“I see,” Dr. Fox said, back to taking notes again, “It sounds like it’s been an eventful couple of months for you. I’m glad to hear that you’ve found a balance of spending time with Balthazar, and with Dean. I know the last time we spoke, the two of them had upset you a good deal. It seems that you’re doing a good job of moving past that. And, I’m glad to hear your grades are still holding up, and that you’re enjoying spending time with your family again. You mentioned earlier in our session that your extended family will be a part of your birthday celebrations. How are you feeling about that? I know that over Thanksgiving, there was a lot of anxiety regarding your family.”

“Not any more. I mean, that was before I came out, so I was worried about someone finding out. But now, I don’t care if they know. This is who I am, and Dean’s who I love and that shouldn’t matter to anyone else.” 

“That’s a big step, Castiel,” Doctor Fox said, “A stride, actually. Now, addressing the future,” the therapist paused, taking a moment to gather his words. “You aren’t going to like my advice here. But, you know that after all this time, that I have your best interest in mind, and need to bring up difficult subjects from time to time. If you and Dean are happy together, that’s wonderful. I certainly see the difference in your demeanor. I feel that as your therapist, I need to point out a bit of reality to you. You and Dean are both young, and have goals...and your entire lives to experience. The future is never certain, Castiel, and the only constant is change. I wish for your happiness, of course; but, I think the lesson of the day, going forward,  should be focusing on creating happiness for yourself instead of relying on others for your happiness.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, Bobby,” Dean yelled, unbuttoning his coveralls, looking at his grease-caked fingers, “I’m heading out- I uh...I need to get to the store, and I’m meeting Mr. and Mrs. Novak to take a look at Cas’ birthday present, make sure it’s up to standard. Need anything before I go, or while I’m out?” Dean hung up the coveralls, going to the big sink and washing his hands.

Bobby handed Dean a wad of twenties. “You’re in such a rush on the big day, you almost forgot it was payday. You’ve been doing good work, son. Keep it up.”

Dean only needed to look at the handful of money to know it was more than they’d agreed to. “Bobby, what’s this? I can’t. No special treatment, remember? Just a regular grease monkey. Like anyone else.”

“It’s the boy’s birthday. Buy him something nice, ya hear?” 

He clapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder. 

“You’re impossible,” Dean said, rolling his eyes, “I’ll be at Cas’ if you need anything. Just call.” He grabbed his football bag, dashing to the door, and stopping, “Thank you, Bobby. For everything.” 

He didn’t wait for a response. No chick flick moments in the garage. He was out the door, and revving Baby up with a purr, “Alright, Baby, let’s get this show on the road.”

He made a brief stop at the trailer, shutting his bedroom door before pulling a coffee tin out from under his bed. It jingled at retrieval. 

Instead of the coffee that had once been inside, it was starting to smell like old money. Working long hours at the garage, fixing cars and doing a little bit of bitch work was paying off...and paying off quicker than he’d anticipated. He smiled as he looked at the lid, marked with the word ‘future’. It may as well have said ‘Castiel’. 

He counted the money once before pocketing a couple twenties into his wallet, and shoving the tin back under his bed, covering it with a dirty shirt and dashing back out the door to catch Mr. and Mrs. Novak

 

* * *

 

 

Before his birthday party, Balthazar insisted on taking Castiel out for lunch at one of the most expensive restaurants in Sioux Falls that he and his Dad frequently had catered. It was an Italian restaurant called Burke’s. Before their meals arrived, Balthazar gave Castiel his present. 

“Go on, Cassie,” Balthazar smiled, resting his cheek on his hand, “Open it.” 

Castiel opened the lid of the box to find a thick stack of printed pages, wrapped in a blue ribbon, with a signature on the front. The title page read:  _ Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban _ and below that was an inscription: To Castiel. The signature belonged to JK Rowling.

“It’s not scheduled to be released until July,” Balthazar explained coolly, “I managed to pull some strings on my dad’s last business trip to London.” His smile broadened, taking in Castiel’s expression.

Castiel had started to become obsessed with Harry Potter. He liked it almost as much as Lord of the Rings. Better yet, they were definitely tied. He stared at the manuscript, almost afraid to pick it up, his mouth ajar.

“You’ll have to hold it to read it,” Balthazar mentioned.

He quickly grabbed up the novel. Underneath it were two tickets to  _ Les Miserables _ for the local theatre. “Balthazar, this is...it’s too much...I…” 

“Well, I mean, if it’s really too much, I could just take it back,” he teased.

“No,” Castiel said hastily, “I just mean...thank you. I just wish sometimes I could get you something just as amazing.” 

“I have you, of course,” Balthazar replied, like it was the most logical thing in the world.

“Balthazar we’ve been friends since third grade. That’s like getting the same boring present year after year. I want to get you something cool. Something like this.” 

“I don’t think you’re boring, Cassie. Not at all.” 

The food arrived then, and the table fell silent.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel rode in the backseat of the car with Balthazar, as Hershal drove to the Novak house, which was packed with relatives already, by the looks of the parking situation. Castiel’s eyes immediately locked on the Impala, until he noticed his dad’s car was parked in front of the Impala on the side of the road. His dad’s 1995 300 Z  was almost always parked in the garage when it wasn’t being driven. Everyone was waiting outside for him. He almost felt like a celebrity, not to mention that he was, in fact, riding in a car with one of Sioux Falls’ most famous. 

“You’re welcome to stay too, Hershal,” Castiel said with a smile. 

“It’s quite all right, sir,” Hershal said, sparing a smile, “Have fun,” he stepped out of the car, opening the door to the back seat for Castiel and Balthazar, who reached up, honking the horn, before climbing out.

“What was that all about, Balthazar?” Castiel asked and laughed a little. 

Balthazar shrugged, smiling as he gestured to the garage, where the roll-up door was creeping open ever-so-slowly. Castiel’s parents stood behind the door, in front of a yellow Volkswagen Beetle, wrapped in blue and green ribbons, a large green bow resting atop. 

Chuck pounded on the Beetle’s horn in rapid succession a few times, before poking his head out, “Surprise!”

Castiel’s knees felt weak. He was in complete and utter shock. He ran up, giving his Mom a hug while his Dad climbed out of the driver’s seat. 

“Is this really mine?” Castiel asked in disbelief, hugging his Dad as well. 

“It’s just as scary for us, son,” Chuck jested, squeezing his son’s shoulders, “I guess we’ll just have to warn the neighbors. Alright, everyone back inside,” Chuck instructed to the clapping relatives, who started to file back in through the front door. “Let’s get it over with,” Chuck whispered to Castiel. He hated family social gatherings just as much.

Inside, the smell of sugary, buttery cake permeated the entire house, and the furniture had been rearranged just like Thanksgiving to accommodate the influx of company. The long, plastic table they used for Family Reunions had been brought in from the shed. On top of it were tons of presents of various sizes, shapes, and colors. A spot was left open at the end of the table, toward the kitchen, presumably for the missing cake. 

Sam sat on the stairs, immersed, as usual, into his Game Boy Color. 

“Where’s Dean?” Castiel asked, wondering how the question hadn’t already managed to escape his lips. 

“Kitchen,” Sam said simply, “But he said for you not to go in there.” 

Castiel was already halfway there before Sam could finish his words. 

Dean was putting the finishing touches on a beautiful three tier cake that pretty much summed up their relationship. The cake itself was chocolate, a ganache layer spilling over onto the strawberry mousse layered between each of the sponges, chunks of strawberry peaking out. On top sat a large, juicy strawberry dipped in the same chocolate ganache, and around the bottom, Dean was in the process of wrapping the layer with Kit-Kats- one of their favorite snacks to grab at the gas station on their way home from school.

Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist from behind. Dean was so focused on finishing the cake, he hadn’t even heard Castiel enter the room, and jumped instinctively. 

“So, this is why you weren’t outside?” Castiel whispered, kissing the back of Dean’s neck softly, “I missed you.” 

“You rebel,” Dean teased, wheeling around, sugar and flour dusting Castiel’s shirt from his apron, “You’re not supposed to be in here,” he whispered, bending down the little bit it took to plant a kiss on Castiel’s lips.

Dean was trying. He was no Balthazar Roche in a suit, but he was trying to dress to impress the family. His hair was combed back, and beneath the apron, he was wearing a green sweater, and his best jeans...one of few pairs without holes.

“I learn from the best,” Castiel said, his hand brushing against Dean’s cock, seemingly innocently. 

Dean’s hips arched forward into Castiel’s palm, and he glanced towards the door as his fingers twisted through his belt loops, pulling him closer, kissing him a little harder, “Don’t give me ideas, or this cake’ll never get done.”

“If that door had a lock, I’d already be on my knees,” Castiel said, licking his lips. 

“It’s your birthday,” Dean smiled, kissing Castiel again, “I’d be the one on my knees.”

The kitchen door swung open, and Castiel’s cousin Matt came in, just after Dean had jumped away from Castiel. “Couldn’t wait to get into the cake?” Matt teased, “Can’t blame you.” Matt clapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder, “Looks great, man.”

He turned to Castiel, handing him a brown paper sack as if they were trading drugs, “ _ Don’t _ tell your mom,” he warned.

Dean looked up, confused.

“You know I won’t,” Castiel replied, opening the sack. 

Inside was a copy of the PC game  _ Grand Theft Auto _ which Sam had told Dean about in great detail, because it was coming to Game Boy Color in the Fall. Of course, Dean had only heard ‘hint, hint’ when Sam said it. They weren’t lucky enough to have a PC. 

Dean quirked an eyebrow at Cas, as if to say, ‘really, babe’? Sometimes, Castiel still surprised him.

“Awesome, Matt, thanks!” He did their secret handshake, before pulling Matt into a hug, “You remember Dean.”

“Yeah,” Matt smiled, turning to face Dean, “The friend from Thanksgiving.”

“Actually, um...he’s my boyfriend. Since...about Thanksgiving,” he said, grabbing Dean’s hand rather proudly.

Dean actually looked more shocked than Matt, who recovered quickly, not shaken by the revelation, “Good to see you again, boyfriend-Dean,” he said, without missing a beat, “You better be taking care of my favorite cousin.”

“I...uh…” Dean said, still reeling. They hadn’t talked about Castiel coming out to his family at all prior. He was happy Cas was comfortable, albeit, a little shocked, “I’m doing my best.”

“Good.” Matt grinned, “I’ll leave you lovebirds to it. Hurry up though, will you? The whole house smells like cake,” he winked, turning away.

“Well then,” Dean said as the door swung shut, “You’re just full of surprises today, aren’t you?”

“Like I said, I learn from the best,” He threw his arms around Dean’s neck and kissed him again. 

“Oh, you have no idea,” Dean teased, rubbing his nose against Castiel’s. “Here, taste this,” he said, jamming the nozzle of the icing he’d made to ‘glue’ the Kit Kats to the cake basically into Castiel’s mouth, squeezing an obscene ton of it on his tongue and lips.

Castiel swallowed, pushing more icing into his mouth that dribbled down his chin. “Not the kind of cream filling I wanted, but for now it’s good. Like, really good.” 

“Don’t laugh at me,” Dean warned, “But...I was thinking...I could do this, right? Make cakes and shit.”

“Like a bakery?” Castiel asked, his heart fluttering hearing Dean talk about the future. He could recall a time when he’d always said he didn’t have a future. And, it hadn’t really made sense to him until Castiel had found out about the hunting. After that, it had become painfully obvious why Dean didn’t think he had a future to begin with. “I think it’s wonderful, baby!” 

Dean beamed, finding it difficult to hide excitement at the prospect, “I’ll bring you home cake all the time,” he said, wrapping his arms tighter around Castiel, “Gonna make you so proud, baby.”

“The kids are gonna love you,” Castiel laughed before falling silent.  _ Oh God, I really just said that. Out loud.  _

Dean flushed, first turning pink, quickly spreading into a bright red across his cheeks. It wasn’t something he hadn’t thought of- raising kids, doing a better job than his dad...giving them a normal life full of baseball games, playing outside, and apparently cake, too. Hearing it from Cas was a whole different matter. He didn’t know what to say, so he pulled Castiel closer and kissed him again in silent agreement.

When they pulled away, Castiel eyed the cake, “Do I get sixteen whole candles?” 

“Only if I get to give you sixteen birthday spankings,” Dean whispered, only half-teasing.

“Deal,” Castiel said without hesitation. They’d been getting a bit more ambitious, and Castiel found that he liked when Dean was a bit rougher. 

Dean grinned, stepping behind Castiel to pull out a chair from the counter, patting it for Castiel to sit, “Okay, birthday boy, I have to finish your cake if you want sixteen candles.” He handed him a Kit Kat, before turning and getting back to putting the finishing touches on the stunning cake.

Castiel munched contently, watching Dean craft his masterpiece. 

“Okay,” Dean said a few minutes later, finishing his work, stepping back to look at it. It was really stunning, even for an adult, let alone someone in High School, “I’ll bring it out in a few. Think you’re supposed to be out there to blow out your candles,” he winked, “I can’t steal all of your attention.”

“Alright,” Castiel said kissing Dean’s cheek, “But, hurry? I’ve missed you all day.” 

Castiel stepped out of the kitchen with most of his family sitting at the table already. He sat down at the head of the table, where his Dad usually sat between Balthazar and an empty seat for Dean next to Sam, who was finally off his Gameboy and discussing games with Matt. 

“Where’s the cake, Alice?” Aunt Nancy asked, sipping a glass of white wine, “It’s not much of a birthday without cake.” 

“My boyfriend Dean is making it,” Castiel announced a bit loudly, so everyone could hear. The chatter died down and everyone was staring at Castiel with a mix of emotions. Finally, it was Castiel’s Grandma that broke the tension. “Well isn’t that just the sweetest thing. Bless his heart!” 

“Thanks, Grandma,” Castiel smiled, “He should be almost done now.” 

“What’d I miss?” Dean said, coming out to see all eyes on him, not having heard the previous part of the conversation. He held the three tier cake in his hands. As he lowered it, his question was brushed off. Mrs. Novak dimmed the lights, and started singing, “Happy birthday to you…” soon the entire family joined in, including Dean, who stepped around the table, sitting beside Castiel and the cake, smiling, so close that his voice made the others fade out. During the part where his name was sung, the resounding parts from the family said ‘Castiel’, but the voices that meant the most were a distinctive, ‘Cas’ and ‘Cassie’. He smiled.

“Make a wish, Cassie,” Balthazar reminded him after the song.

_ I want to marry Dean and have beautiful babies with him.  _

He blew the candles out. 

Everyone clapped.

It was short lived. Aunt Nancy had an opinion on everything, including that there was candy on the cake. She shut up fast enough once she had a bite.

After cake, there were presents- lots of books, movies, music, a couple gift cards and some car stuff. Sam had paid Cas back by saving his money, and had bought him Pokemon Blue in return for Pokemon Red. The only person, in fact, that didn’t have much to say, or a gift to show, was Dean.

Castiel looked around expectantly, almost heartbroken. He couldn’t bring himself to ask.Surely he hadn’t forgotten. He fought the sting of tears in his eyes. 

Dean caught the shift in his loved one’s mood, and instantly grabbed his hand under the table, leaning to whisper in his ear, “Later.”

Castiel’s smile brightened. He could barely stand the small talk with his boring relatives and was thankful for Dean, Sam, Balthazar, and Matt to keep him company. 

As the night dwindled down and relatives began leaving, Castiel grew even happier, nearly bouncing in his seat. Not just because there was less small talk, but because the anticipation was growing at what Dean’s surprise could be.  _ Maybe it’s a sexy surprise,  _ he pondered.

“Are you sure you have to go?” he asked, a little disappointed when Balthazar followed the relatives, “I thought we could hang out a bit later tonight?” 

“I think Dean has you tonight, love,” he replied, “Can’t break our custody arrangement.” It was hard to tell how serious he was being.

Castiel hugged him tight, smiling, “Thanks for everything, Balthazar. I’m sorry you had to put up with my relatives. Maybe we could plan a trip to the park here soon? We’re overdue for our sadistic picnic rituals.”

“Of course. You have my phone number. Any time, Cassie. Enjoy your birthday. Let me know if you enjoy the book.” He winked, “I figured I’d let you read it first.”

“I know you totally had a copy made,” he teased, “We’ll read it together, like always, after the duck. I won’t start without you.” 

He nodded, “Alright, Cassie,” he agreed, “Together, then.” His touch lingered on Castiel’s arm for a moment, before he retreated outside, and into the car with Hershal.

“Goodnight,” Castiel waved from the door. 

Sam was leaving too, the Novaks driving him back home so Dean could spend the night. “Thanks again for everything Sam. I can’t wait to start playing,” he gave him a hug. 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Dean added, leaning against the wall.

“You know I will,” Sam smirked. 

Castiel closed the door behind them and pulled Dean upstairs. He closed the door to his room faster than he ever had. “So….,” he said slyly, “It’s later.” 

“Is it?” Dean asked, grinning.

“Dean,” Castiel teased with a pout, as Dean tossed the leather jacket at him.

“C’mon, baby, put your jacket on, we’re gonna go look at the stars.”  He grabbed the spare blankets and pillows, but left the telescope in the corner, which Castiel went to grab instinctually.

“Leave it,” Dean said, smiling with mischief and turning back around.

“But... Dean?” Castiel asked, confused as he followed his boyfriend downstairs, “How will we see the stars then?” 

It took a few seconds for realization to really dawn on him. 

“We’re not going to look at the stars are we?” 

“Sure we are,” Dean grinned, taking Castiel’s hand and pulling him out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Even without a telescope, outside the small hum of Sioux Falls nightlife, it was easy to see the stars forming constellations, and even easier for Dean and Castiel to create their own, drawing pictures with their fingers in the sky. It was a little cold still; but, bundling up in jackets and blankets under the stars was fine, and sharing kisses beneath the sky made Dean feel warm, and drunk on love. But, Castiel always made him feel that way.

He traced his loved one’s cheek, running fingers into his hair as their lips moved together, the stars all but forgotten, “I love you. I love you so much,” Dean whispered, his nose resting against Castiel’s.

“I love you so much more,”Castiel replied, nuzzling him. 

Dean shook his head, nose still rubbing against his boyfriend’s, “No, that’s not possible.” He rolled over, positioning himself just a little over Castiel and kissing him one more time, before abruptly sitting up and shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, looking up at the stars again.

Castiel missed the closeness immediately. He sat up too, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. He held Dean’s arm instead, since his hand was jammed into his pocket. 

“Do too,” he whispered. 

“Nope,” Dean said, kissing Castiel on the nose, before breaking into a wide smile, “I’m actually kind of impressed.”

“Hmm?” Castiel asked, squeezing Dean’s arm a little. 

“You haven’t said anything about your birthday present.”

“I...I don’t need a present,” Castiel said, blushing profusely, “All I need is you.” 

“Like I’d ever forget your birthday,” Dean teased, before adding, “Aren’t you even a little curious?”

“I figured you were waiting for something,” Castiel answered, “Ok, so maybe I’m a little curious.”

“Just a little?” Dean coaxed, narrowing his eyes.

“Maybe a lot. Come on! It’s getting late! Soon it won’t even be my birthday anymore.” 

“Okay, okay,” Dean laughed, “Close your eyes,” he instructed, kissing Castiel gently as he did so before pulling away, “And hold out your hand.”

Castiel’s heart fluttered with excitement as he did as Dean asked. 

“Not like that,” Dean corrected, and Castiel felt his hand being turned gently palm-down instead of palm-up, Dean’s touch lingering on his skin, “Like this.”

There was silence, and anticipation for a moment, until Castiel felt something cold close in on his middle finger, slipping down and snugly into place.

Castiel’s eyes popped open instantly, staring down at his hand. “D-d-dean?” he stuttered. 

On Castiel’s finger rest a silver Irish Claddagh ring with an emerald for the heart. Dean smiled, “Don’t suppose I need to tell you this, but it’s a claddagh ring. The hands represent friendship, the crown represents loyalty, and the heart...well, you know. When you wear it like that, heart pointing towards you...it means you belong to somebody, like this.” He flashed his own hand, a replica of Castiel’s ring on his own middle finger, only laden with a sapphire. It hadn’t been cheap, and it had come at the cost of him watching one episode of Buffy about forty times before he had the Angel speech memorized, but as he waited on Castiel’s reaction, he knew it would be worth it a thousand times over.

“Dean, oh my God!” he threw his arms around Dean, in a hug that knocked them to the ground. His face was bright red, buried in his boyfriend’s chest. He was smiling ear to ear and couldn’t stop. He’d gotten him a ring. A real, beautiful ring. Even if it wasn’t an engagement ring, he felt his heart melt contently. 

Dean’s arms wrapped tight around Castiel’s waist, pulling him in, “I love you.” He didn’t bother to ask if Castiel liked it. The reaction was enough- and Dean already knew the answer. He’d be contented if they could just stay like this...forever.

“I. Love. You. So. Much,” Castiel replied, punctuating each word with a big kiss. He couldn’t stop staring at his hand. 

“I know you do,” Dean teased, laying him down, obscuring his view from the ring and kissing him one last time before sitting up, scooting Castiel into his arms, and picking him up, letting Cas wrap his legs around his waist. “I love you too,” he said, before beginning to carry Castiel back towards the Impala.

“Dean,” Castiel giggled, “What are you doing?”

“Your nose is cold,” Dean said, “I figured I’d warm you up.” He set Castiel down on the driver’s side of the Impala, near the trunk.

“Dean...what are you...are you letting me drive?” he cocked his head to the side in confusion. 

“No,” he said simply, opening the door to the back seat, “Get in.”

The hairs on the back of Castiel’s neck prickled in anticipation. His cock was beginning to get hard. “Dean...are we going to have sex...in the Impala??? You know that’s one of my biggest fantasies.” 

Dean rolled his eyes, “Way to spoil the surprise. Wait here.”

He ran back to their cuddle-spot on the grass, grabbing up the pillows and blankets before scooting into the back seat with his boyfriend and shutting the door behind him. 

They looked at each other in silence for a few moments, the windows already beginning to steam from their breath. “Happy birthday, beautiful,” Dean said, finally breaking the silence and the distance, his lips closing around Castiel’s again, green eyes closing in bliss.

“Dean...the windows are fogging up...like in the movie…” Castiel whispered, blushing. They’d made love in tons of different ways...but Dean always found a way to surprise him. 

“Where to, birthday boy?” Dean mocked the movie  _ Titanic. _

“To the stars,” Castiel replied, climbing into Dean’s lap without missing a beat. He gasped to find him already hard, before he remembered that this had been one of Dean’s fantasies, too.

Dean didn’t give him time to think. He had plans. He pushed Castiel’s back against the back of the driver’s seat, burying his face beneath his loved one’s ear, pressed into Castiel’s pulse.

Castiel’s arms flew up around Dean’s neck, as a somewhat startled moan came from his lips, his hips rutting down onto Dean hard in anticipation. His fingers trailed up, into the short, soft fibers of his hair, until there was enough between his fingers to pull, which caused Dean, in turn, to nip into Castiel.

“You’re gonna leave a mark…” Castiel groaned, his head falling back in submission.

“Don’t care,” Dean mumbled against his neck, “You belong to someone, remember? Don’t care who knows.”

“Dean…” Castiel groaned, panting at the pressure of the fabric of his jeans against his cock, “...my mom will see…”

Dean conceded, his lips going lower, until they pushed aside the collar of Castiel’s shirt, and he began sucking into his collarbone and Castiel couldn’t protest anymore...it felt too good.

Castiel had come a long way from being that boy who couldn’t imagine belonging to someone, from the person who had hundreds of questions about how to fuck, or make love properly. He’d learned by now that most of it was winging it...and, to his own surprise, that he hadn’t found much yet that he didn’t enjoy. 

His hands dropped from their grip on Dean’s hair, and began instead, palming at the bulge in his boyfriend’s jeans, before fumbling with the button and zipper. Dean’s cock was free in under a minute...hard, and wet, twitching with want beneath Castiel’s fingertips. 

Castiel pulled away from Dean, so that his love could see him lick his lips, glancing down at the mess he was already making.

“Fuck, Cas…” Dean growled, his eyes wide and pupils dilated, hair a fucking mess already. The sweater and jeans were all well and good for impressions, but this was how Castiel liked him- with sex hair and swear words, smelling like the leather of the Impala, cock standing at attention, and beads of sweat beginning to run down his neck, beneath the fabric of the sweater to trace the outlines of his perfectly sculpted body.

Castiel bumped his head as he readjusted to pull Dean’s shirt off, after which, Dean promptly asked, “You ok?”

Castiel didn’t bother with an answer, just kissed him...caressing the muscles in his chest as though it had been forever since the last time they’d touched. It didn’t escape him that Dean was getting stronger. Maybe he’d been working out more during the instances of time that they spent apart, lately. 

He pulled away from Dean’s lips, slipping into the passenger side of the back instead. Dean moved to pull him into his arms, but Castiel held his own.

“I want to suck you, Dean,” Castiel said, shivering a bit with the thought. It wasn’t so hard to pretend that Dean was driving. It was one of the biggest parts of this fantasy...Dean with his pants undone, his hands on the wheel trying to focus on the road while coming down Castiel’s throat, fingers gripping hard onto the steering wheel while his head fell back.

“You wanna suck me off in the car, sweetheart?” Dean asked suggestively, catching onto the fantasy, “Make me come while I’m driving and someone might see?” He ran his thumb over Castiel’s kiss-swollen bottom lip, “Make a mess of that pretty mouth of yours?”

“God, yes,” Castiel moaned, taking Dean’s finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip. 

Dean leaned up, thrusting the keys into the ignition and shoving a new cassette into the cassette player. The familiar riffs of classic rock guitars blasted through the car.

 

_ Love is like a bomb, baby, c’mon get it on, _

_ Livin’ like a lover with a radar phone, _

_ Lookin’ like a tramp, like a video vamp, _

_ Demolition woman, can I be your man? _

 

Castiel greedily pushed Dean back down into the seat, licking his lips again. During their game of secrets, Dean had divulged that this was one of the songs he listened to when he was touching himself to thoughts of Castiel’s mouth on him, blue eyes focused on him. Now, Castiel was determined to make that fantasy a reality for Dean.

It was a little hard to position himself in the car, but he worked quickly, wiggling until he could wrap his lips around Dean’s cock, cleaning it of precome, swallowing him down greedily.

Dean grabbed into his hair, bobbing him down on his cock to the rugged, sensual thrums of the song, and back up, rough enough that each time, Castiel came off with a ‘pop’, a little more breathlessly than the times before. It was all in good fun. Castiel liked showing off for Dean, letting a little more of his boyfriend’s cock into his mouth until it bottomed out in his throat.

 

_ So c’mon, take a bottle...shake it up, _

_ Break the bubble, _

_ Break it up… _

_ Pour some sugar on me, _

_ Oooh, in the name of love, _

_ Pour some sugar on me… _

_ C’mon fire me up, _

_ Pour your sugar on me, _

_ I can’t get enough… _

_ I’m hot, sticky sweet, _

_ From my head, to my feet. _

 

Dean hadn’t been kidding about the song...listening to the words made Castiel squirm with lust, imagining himself a mess between Dean’s shaking legs, watching his head fall back as he arched into his mouth.

He moaned loudly, causing Dean to pull him off. He licked his lips, “Please, baby...so fucking sexy.”

“You like that, sweetheart- when I pull your hair, when I fuck your mouth?”

“Mmm,” Castiel moaned, begging, trying to move so that he could get back to sucking. “Yeah, baby, please, I want to suck your cock, wanna get you wet for me. Want you to fuck my face until I make you come.”

Dean was silent a moment, as though he didn’t know what to say. The response was his cock twitching, chills running up his spine. “Yeah, Cas? Think you’re gonna finish me off like this?” He knew what he’d be thinking of during every hunt from now on, “Cause I’m not nearly done with you, yet.”

Castiel wasn’t done yet, either, “What else are you gonna do to me, Dean?” Castiel breathed, “Tell me…” his soft, pink lips wrapped around Dean’s cock again, just in time to lick another droplet of precome from the head of his swollen cock, before running it down the underside of it. He noticed Dean’s legs were shaking now.

Dean gripped into the side of the car, his head falling back just like Castiel had been picturing moments before,  “I’m gonna lay you down in the car, steam it up really good for you...just like in the movie,” his fingers flexed against the leather of the seat, “Gonna undress you nice and slow, till you can’t take it anymore cause your cock’s so hard against your jeans...till you’re begging me. Gonna touch you until you feel so good that you’re ready to explode…”

Castiel moaned, spit dribbling down Dean’s cock. Dean had a way of doing just that. His hands usually felt so good on him that the buildup was almost better than the actual climax.

“...then I’m gonna spread your legs for me, and I’m going to show you exactly what it means to be mine. Gonna take you to the edge and let you come back, and then I’ll bring you back again.”

They both knew that if Castiel kept up like this, that Dean wouldn’t have enough stamina to keep going, no matter how hard he tried. The second Castiel’s lips came off of Dean’s cock, Dean was pushing him back down, into the seat, shoving a pillow behind him as he laid him down.

And then Dean was moving on top of him, grinding against him even as his fingers were tugging his shirt off, and then pulling desperately at the buttons of his jeans. Castiel pushed back, shoving Dean’s pants the rest of the way down until he was beautiful, and freckled, and naked on top of him in the Impala. 

Dean’s lips bumped against his, forcing them open, tongues meeting, Dean taking back some of the salty-sweetness of his own body. 

Castiel’s body was already starting to slide in the leather from sweat, the windows completely fogged up now. He shivered as the cold air hit his unclothed cock, and Dean slid back until he could get a taste of his sweetheart as well.

“Dean!” Castiel groaned, his shoulders slamming a little hard into the door in surprise. 

Dean didn’t yield. His hand wrapped around Castiel’s wrist, pressing it up against the cold, steamed window, leaving a handprint that slid down. Castiel watched their hands in awe as his boyfriend licked slowly up his cock. “Dean…” Castiel sighed, his heart racing as he let his head fall back against the door, too. “Dean...there’s a...there’s a handprint, Dean,” he panted, feeling like he was losing his mind from how turned on he was, how in love he was...how Dean filled him and completed him in every single way until he was ready to explode.

There wasn’t an answer. Dean pried himself away from Castiel’s cock, hooking an arm beneath him and dropping him down onto the pillow, kissing him senseless again.

Castiel didn’t remember him grabbing lube, or where it had come from; but the next thing he felt was Dean’s slick cock filling him up. He grabbed onto the passenger headrest, heart pounding against Dean’s hard, warm chest as their bodies worked together, as Dean’s stomach slid against Castiel’s cock, growing sticky. 

Whatever song was playing stopped, and the silence was filled by a loud spank on Castiel’s ass that would definitely leave a mark. He moaned.

Castiel squirmed, moving until his arms were around Dean’s neck, sweaty foreheads touching. “One. Fifteen more to go,” Dean whispered, slipping his hand between their bodies until it could wrap around Castiel’s cock, stroking him, “God, you’re so wet, Cas.”

All Castiel could do was moan. He was already so close. He opened his eyes, still half closed in pleasure, and they locked onto the ring on his finger.

Dean smiled ruthlessly, moving his lips to Castiel’s ear, “That’s right, sweetheart,”

Castiel’s body felt like static, he could feel everything he had holding back the inevitable, he whined a moan that made Dean thrust harder, but slower, emphasizing each thrust as he rubbed against Castiel’s sweet spot, making them both shudder.

“That’s right, baby,” Dean managed, pulling back just a little to look into Castiel’s eyes, “You’re wearing my ring.”

“Oh god,” Castiel cried, his hips arching up hard against Dean’s, working him through his orgasm, as come flooded over both their stomachs, “Dean, oh god, Dean...Dean! Fuck...” he clung onto Dean, arms tighter around him.

“I’ve got you,” Dean said, putting more efforts into each slow thrust with Castiel so tight around him, quivering, shaking... It was a wonder he could speak at all.

“I love you…” Castiel breathed, slowly coming down, rocking his hips lazily against Dean, fingers running back through his hair, lovingly. They were both damp with sweat, and now, Dean was shaking, “That’s it, Dean, that’s it baby,” Castiel soothed, “Let go, I’ve got you, too. You feel so good, so good inside of me,” he coaxed, peppering kisses into Dean’s neck.

Dean’s body stiffened, and Castiel felt warmth flooding into him that had him moaning again as his fingers stroked lovingly up Dean’s back and shoulders.

“Castiel…” Dean’s low voice was in his ear...and just like with every time before, Castiel knew he would never get over the sound of his own name being said like a prayer...like their love was some sort of religion.

“Dean…” Castiel whispered back, holding him close, “My Dean.”

“Yours,” Dean breathed in reply, his body limp and spent in Castiel’s arms.

“I’m wearing your ring,” Castiel repeated, body still shaking from the aftermath, “Oh God, I’m yours Dean. All yours.” He could almost cry for being so happy.

Dean’s arms closed around Castiel, still sticky. He didn’t care, “If forever could start right now, I’d give you a different ring, we’d belong to each other forever. I’m never going to let you go, Castiel Novak, not ever.”

Dean realized what song was playing, and couldn’t help but smile.

_ \--Can’t stop now, I’ve traveled so far… _

_ To change this lonely life. _

_ I wanna know what love is… _

_ I want you to show me… _

_ I wanna feel what love is… _

_ I know you can show me... _

 

“Don’t. Don’t ever let me go, Dean Winchester. I want to be with you always.” 

“I’d wait forever,” Dean said, smiling and burrowing into Castiel’s shoulder, “I never thought I could have this. Now...now I can’t imagine ever having gone without you.” He turned, inspecting the ring on his own finger, “You’re my entire life.”

The car was starting to cool down, without the heat of motion. Dean reluctantly sat up, wiping them both off with one of the blankets he’d brought. 

He pulled Castiel’s shirt over his head, running his fingers through his messy hair, “I wish we could stay like this.” When he was with Castiel, he felt like they were the entire world.

He put his own shirt back on, and rummaged for the rest of the clothes on the floor.

By the time they were dressed, and wrapped up in a different blanket, cuddled in the back seat and making out again, Dean had half a mind to do exactly that- stay here, just like this.

“Dean, we’ll never get back home this way. You’ll make me want to go again.” 

He kissed Dean, laying on top of his chest, as he ran fingers lovingly through his hair.

Dean grinned, rubbing his nose against Cas’, “Is that a bad thing?” he teased.

“Dean…” Castiel giggled, before his expression turned to panic, “Dean! Are those...lights?” 

Through the steam of the back windshield blue and red lights could be seen. A knock came at the window moments later. 

“Dean!” Castiel whispered, “Oh my God! We’re going to jail!” 

“Shit…” Dean whispered, before putting a hand over Castiel’s mouth, “Shh…” Maybe if they were quiet, they wouldn’t get busted in a car that still smelled of sex, after curfew.

“Come on boys,” came a female voice through the glass, “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“Fuck, it’s the sheriff,” he’d recognize the voice anywhere. Dean rolled down the window with a sheepish grin, “Can I uh...can I help you sherriff?”

Sheriff Mills looked like a mom, standing there with her hands on her hips. She was wearing a tan uniform with a belt of essentials, her hair was cut short, and she had kind eyes.  Castiel panicked, picturing them both in handcuffs in the backseat of the police car. Even in the night, he could see the gleam of her Sheriff badge. He’d had a lot less run-ins with Sheriff Jody Mills than Dean had.

“What are you boys doing out here? Alone? In the backseat of the car?” Sheriff Mills asked. 

“Uh...talking?” Dean lied, “That’s not against the law, right, sherriff?”

“You know what time it is, boys?” she crossed her arm, again looking more like a mother than an officer.

“Not really,” Dean said, truthfully, even though he knew that it had to be late, even though it was Friday night.

“It’s midnight. Hour after curfew. What do you have to say for yourselves?” 

“Didn’t realize it was so late, sheriff. I’ll drive Cas back home and we’ll just forget this ever happened,” Dean tried.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve caught you after curfew, Mr. Winchester. I think it’s best if the three of us go down to the station. I’ll call your families.” 

“Is that really...necessary...sheriff? I mean, we just lost track of time and it’s Cas’ birthday...I can really just take him home and it won’t happen again.” 

“Step out of the car, boys.”

“What?” Castiel’s voice cracked. 

“Sheriff, we can’t just leave my car out here. My dad would kill me,” Dean argued, even as he reached up, pulling the keys out of the ignition and shutting the car down.

“Should’ve thought that one through, then. Come on, out. I’m sure Bobby’ll tow it for you if you ask him real nice, kiddo.”

Dean looked like he was getting ready to protest, but thought better of it, waiting until he got out of the car, instead, to say, “What’s the point in arresting me for curfew if you’re gonna keep me out later past curfew?”

Castiel climbed out of the car immediately, “Are you going to handcuff us?” 

“Don’t be dramatic, Castiel,” Sheriff Mills laughed, “Just get in the backseat.” 

Castiel latched onto Dean’s hand. 

Dean couldn’t help the quip, he leaned over, whispering into Castiel’s ear, “Is that something you wanna try, baby?”

“Dean,” Castiel said, seriously, “This is no time to make jokes.” 

“Can’t change anything now,” Dean said, climbing into the back seat, inconspicuously taking Castiel’s hand. As Sheriff Mills climbed up front, Dean couldn’t help but ask, “Seriously though, Sheriff, can we not leave my Baby out here?”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine until you or Bobby can come back out and get her.” 

She headed back towards town. 

Castiel squeezed Dean’s hand tighter, “Dean, I’m really scared,” he whispered. 

“It’s gonna be okay, baby,” Dean soothed in a returned whisper, “We’ll probably be there a couple hours tops.”   
Castiel felt he couldn’t be too entirely shocked. Something about having Dean Winchester as a boyfriend was bound to land him in the backseat of a police car eventually. Still he couldn’t help but worry about this going on his record and preventing him from getting into a good school or getting a good job. His heart was pounding out of his chest. 

“Hey, look at me,” Dean whispered, tilting Castiel’s chin up, forcing him to look at him, “Everything’s gonna be alright, okay? Haven’t put you through anything you couldn’t handle yet, have I?” he smiled, trying to ease Cas’ mind.

“But what about my record, Dean? I’ll never get into a good school or get a good job. This is so much worse than the Principal’s office.”  _ How is it that every time we have mind-blowing sex, we end up in so much trouble? _

“Being out past curfew isn’t an actual crime, Cas.”

“But..” Castiel bit his bottom lip, “Are you sure?” 

“You can’t actually hold us for curfew, can you sheriff?” Dean asked, rolling his eyes.

“I don’t know boys, can I? Guess you should have studied up instead of ‘talking’ in the backseat of your Dad’s car. When your Uncle Bobby hears about this, he’s going to be livid.” 

“No he’s not,” Dean retorted, rolling his eyes, “You know just as well as I do that he’s going to shrug and say there are worse things I could be doing. Besides,” Dean said, leaning up in the seat, “I already said it was an accident.”

The car pulled into the station, which was way too brightly lit for the middle of the night.

“We’ll see about that.” 

Castiel couldn’t find his legs, but his hand was squeezing Dean’s just fine.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Dean whispered, “Let’s get out of the car.” He held Castiel’s hand into the police station.

“You want hearts around your mug shots too?” snickered the guy behind the desk. 

“Sure, they’ll make great souvenirs for the road,” Dean snarked back, “Can you photoshop a mustache like yours on it, too? It’ll make a great gimmick. Did you fail in the porn business? Seventies are over, man. C’mon, babe,” Dean kept walking with Castiel.

Sheriff Mills stopped, “That’s about enough out of you, Dean Winchester. Same goes to you, Officer Mendez. Let’s keep it professional, like no holding hands in jail. Honestly, Dean I’d say I don’t know what’s gotten into you tonight, but judging by the state of that Impala I don’t think I want to know. Now come on, mug shots first. Then, fingerprints.” 

“You’ve gotta be joking,” Dean protested, “Aren’t you just gonna throw us in a cell? C’mon sheriff, at least let Cas go, he’s never done anything wrong and it’s my fault. He was only out because of me…”

“Maybe you oughta think about that next time,” said gruff voice behind them. Dean and Castiel both wheeled around at the familiar sound. It was Bobby to the rescue. Castiel rushed him into a hug, almost near to tears.

“Oh thank God! I can’t spend a night in jail, Bobby, I can’t. Are you here to bail us out?”Castiel pleaded. 

“Jesus, kid, toughen up. You really wouldn’t last a night in jail. How about it, Sheriff? Think they’ve learned their lesson?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a few hours in a cell couldn’t hurt.” 

“You were totally fucking with us!” Dean exclaimed.

“Dean!” Bobby barked. 

“Watch your mouth, young man,” Sheriff Mills finished. In a different world, Bobby and Jody would’ve been great for each other. It wasn’t the first time Dean’d thought about it.

“Really, you two? On his birthday? You were about to give him a heart attack,” Dean looked less than amused, reversing roles and playing the stern parent, complete with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Hey, you’ve been out past curfew a lot this past month, Dean. So I finally called Bobby up and told him to meet me at the station. I had no idea it was poor Castiel’s birthday today.” 

Dean flushed. He couldn’t tell Castiel that he’d been out late because he was working for Bobby...it would ruin the surprise of putting their future together. He certainly couldn’t tell Sheriff Mills about hunting, either. So, he was stuck, “Bobby knows why I’m out late. Didn’t vouch for me? That’s a low blow.”

“Doesn’t matter why, Dean. Curfew is curfew. If you need to be out that late, then Bobby needs to take you back home. Stand out like a sore thumb in that car of yours.”

“I’ll let him pick the car up and follow the boys home. Make sure they get there safe. How’s that sound, Jody?” 

“Alright, but I catch him out past curfew again he’s getting community service. And I’m serious, Dean. Boy out that late is up to no good,” she agreed.

Castiel couldn’t help but wonder what was keeping Dean out so late. It couldn’t be football, and there was no reason to be studying outside. Dean hadn’t mentioned hunting anything lately, but maybe he wanted to keep him out of the loop when it came to hunting. He hadn’t exactly been thrilled about the idea when he said he wanted to be a hunter too. Whatever Dean was doing, Castiel was sure he wasn’t meaning to get into trouble. He always had good intentions at heart. 

The three of them left the station and climbed into Bobby’s truck. 

“So, son, how was your birthday?” Bobby asked Castiel. 

Castiel broke into a grin that looked far too much like Dean’s, full of mischief. 

“It was the best birthday ever,” Castiel smirked. 

It was true, too. Dean had told him that he’d give him the best birthday ever, and like always, he didn’t disappoint. 

“Even with going to jail?” Dean asked, eyebrow quirked. He looked a little disheartened that their misadventure may have had a negative impact on his loved one’s day. 

“Yep,” Castiel grinned, “I mean, I was scared, but it all worked out for the best.” 

“I’m glad,” Dean whispered, squeezing Castiel’s hand.  _ You only deserve the best. _

“I’m glad you had a good one, kid,” Bobby smiled, “You know you’re part of the family Cas. Just like one of my own boys.” 

“Yeah, I know, thanks Bobby,” Castiel said with another smile. 

“Here,” Bobby said, handing Castiel a surprisingly well wrapped present, complete with bow. Castiel tore the paper away to reveal three lore books, “Just the basics every beginner should know. Study all you can, son.” 

“Thanks, Bobby,” Castiel replied, excitedly. 

“You’re giving him homework, and lore books?” Dean grimaced, picking up one of the books, and flipping to a page. “First sightings of a Wendigo? Jesus, Bobby, these things are ancient.”

“Like I said, study up. There’s plenty more where that came from.” 

Bobby pulled up next to the Impala. “Dean, a word?”

Dean handed the keys to Castiel, “Go ahead and start the car, babe?”

“Son, I don’t have to tell you what would happen if your Dad found out you were foolin’ around in the back of his car, do I? Ya idjit.” 

Dean felt crimson spilling over his cheeks, “Bobby!” he yelped, surprised at the old man’s bluntness.

“Were I you, I’d make damn sure he doesn’t find out.” 

“Don’t try telling me you never had a bucket list,” Dean muttered, still red as he swung open the truck door.

“Boy, your Daddy finds out about tonight, you won’t have a bucket to make a list.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean grumbled, hopping down out of the truck, “Better stop keeping me out so late,” he teased, “I’ll kick your ass if Jody makes me do community service, old man or not.”

Bobby grinned, shaking his head, and drove off.

The Impala still smelled like sex when he opened the door, but he didn’t mind...he was young, and didn’t want to deal with it right then. Besides, tonight was all about the angel beside him, “C’mon, beautiful, let’s get you home,” he said, combing through Cas’ hair and turning up the music before driving away.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel was better at sneaking in the house when he hadn’t been drinking. They made it up the stairs, and into Castiel’s room, shutting the door without a single sound from any of the other rooms. Dean locked Castiel’s bedroom door behind them, before retreating to the bathroom and locking Anna’s door, before starting the shower. The hot mist began to creep over the mirrors almost instantly as Dean emerged, already shirtless again.

He grabbed both of Castiel’s hands, tugging him into the bathroom gently, undressing him slowly on the tile floor of the shared bathroom before shimmying out of his own clothes, “Get in.”

Castiel was almost surprised to realize he wasn’t even nervous about someone walking in. Dean was breaking all his fears down until nothing else mattered but the future in front of them. He stepped into the shower and pulled Dean in with him, kissing him. 

“Have I told you how much I love you?” Dean asked softly, turning until Castiel was beneath the shower head, droplets of water falling down over his shoulders. He was so beautiful.

“Have I told you that I love you more?” Castiel asked, nuzzling Dean’s nose. 

“Maybe a few hundred times. But you’re still wrong,” Dean shrugged, wrapping his arms around his loved one. 

“I wasn’t lying, ya know,” Castiel said, smiling, “This has been the best birthday ever. The best day of my life.” 

“For now,” Dean teased with a grin, splashing some of the shower water onto Castiel’s face, but kissing him before he could protest.

Castiel moaned against Dean’s lips, running his fingers through his wet hair. 

Dean pulled away, smiling, droplets of water sliding from his hair to his nose and down his lip, “I have a few more good days up my sleeve.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Dean grabbed onto Castiel’s hand, tilting the ring up and kissing the heart of the claddagh, before reaching behind his boyfriend, grabbing his shampoo and sudsing him up, giving him a half-ass fauxhawk. 

Castiel laughed a little, before doing the same to Dean. 

Dean tried hard for a moment to look like a serious badass, before bursting into laughter. He hoped that ten years from now, fifty years from now...they’d be just as happy as this.

When the shower water faded and they dried off, Castiel laid down with Dean and stared at those emerald eyes in the dark as he asked, “Dean?”

“Yeah, baby?” Dean murmured, contented, his eyes already starting to flutter.

“What happens after? After high school ends and we have to go to school or get jobs? What happens then?” 

Dean grinned in the dark, chuckling, “I think that’s the ‘happily ever after’ part, dork. That’s forever.”

Castiel smiled nervously in the dark. “What if I have to go to school, like out of state or something?” he said worriedly. 

“Hadn’t really given it much thought,” Dean admitted, “Just figured wherever you go, I’d be there with you. That no matter what else in the future, that you’ll just...be there, y’know?”

“Promise?” 

“Pretty sure I already did,” Dean said, twisting Castiel’s ring a little on his finger before pulling him in close, cradling him in his arms and whispering into his hair, “I promise.”

“Promise me forever,” Castiel asked, burying his face into Dean’s chest, “Again?” 

“Until the real stars all die and fall from the sky, Cas. A million forevers wouldn’t be long enough to spend with you.” Dean kissed his forehead, blushing again at how much he sounded like a chick flick.

That’s the last thing Castiel remembered before he fell asleep. Forever was a good thing to dream about.

 

 

* * *

 

_April 10, 1999_

 

The horn blared outside the trailer, and Dean still wanted nothing more than to be back at Castiel’s, curling back into bed after Mrs. Novak’s breakfast, wrapping himself back around Cas. He really hadn’t wanted Dean to go this time.

“I’m COMING, dad,” Dean yelled through the trailer...not like John Winchester could hear him, or would care even if he could. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, opening his closet and throwing some shit in a bag.

There was nothing like being woken up at 7am by John Winchester waking the entirety of the Novak household up with his large hands pounding on the door, demanding Dean leave right that second. John didn’t know how to call in advance, nor did he know how to wait. He supposed he was lucky that he was getting to come home and pack a few days worth of clothes at all.

“SAM!” Dean yelled, shoving a couple of his mix CDs into the bag.

“Dude, I had a bag packed in case. You know how Dad gets. I’ve been waiting for this wake up call for over a month. You know it never stays quiet around here for too long,” Sam replied, coming and sitting next to the bag on Dean’s bed. 

“You’re not going,” Dean said, “Just me and dad. Lucky you,” he said, bitterly, “I was just gonna let you know I told Cas he could come over whenever. I left part of our project here, and you know dad’s not gonna drive me back to his house.” Dean grabbed his wallet out of his back pocket, handing Sam a hundred dollars in various notes, “Dad said we’ll only be gone a couple days, but if that’s not enough, call Uncle Bobby.”

“Wow! Thanks Dean!” Sam said, giving him a high five, “You’re the best.”

“Don’t I fucking know it?” Dean said, “Hey, Sammy, if you see Cas...tell him I’m sorry. He was pretty broken up about it...his birthday weekend and stuff.”

“Don’t worry, Dean, you’ll make it up to him when you get back.” He cringed at the thought, “maybe you should have gotten him a ball gag for his birthday. At least keep him quiet when you two are...”

“Shut up, bitch.”

“...Jerk.”

The horn blared again...John really laid on it this time.

“Fuck, I gotta go. Just be careful, Sam. Take care of Amber and Cas.” And he was out the door.

Sam shut Dean’s bedroom door, before locking the trailer up and going over to Amber’s. Dean’s window slid open and a backpack landed on the floor. The boy that climbed in through the window, however, was no Castiel Novak. They weren’t so different, once long ago. 

“Dean always did have a thing for nerdy boys in glasses,” the boy whispered to himself, scoffing as he picked up a photo of Castiel and Dean, before setting it down again. 

Cameron had changed a great deal since that night of spin the bottle, kissing in closets, and coming out of them, literally. He wasn’t a nerdy boy in glasses anymore. His glasses were replaced with contacts that turned his once dull green eyes into a stunning icy blue that rivaled that of Castiel’s. His black hair had grown longer, about to his chin, and his eyebrow was pierced. 

He sat down at Dean’s desk and began writing: 

 

_ Hey Baby,  _

 

_ I know you have to go to that stupid party for your friend Castiel, but I need to see you. He takes up too much of your time as it is. I can’t wait. It’s been too long since I’ve felt your touch, so long since I’ve tasted your come on my tongue.  _

_ I want you to fuck my face, and come down my throat. I need to feel you inside of me. I want to feel your cock fucking me on the hood of your Impala. Then I’ll throw you in the backseat, fuck into you so good baby, while we’re listening to the licks of KISS. I know you love it when I take control, get on top of you, and fuck you into oblivion.  _

_ I love you so much, Dean. I know we’ll be together forever, just like you’ve always promised. I can’t wait to marry you and raise babies with you. I can’t wait to start our happily ever after.  _

 

_ With love always,  _

_ Your Sunshine _

 

“What would Castiel Novak do?” Cameron pondered out loud. He added a big heart and a smiley sun to the signature at the bottom. He laughed a little. “God, this is almost too easy.”

He tossed some of his own clothes all over the floor, including everything from socks to underwear, before laying back on the bed. He was content with his handiwork so far, but it needed something more. He grabbed one of Dean’s shirts off the floor and breathed his scent in deep, shivering. 

Cameron grabbed the backpack and pulled out a condom and a bit of lube. He pulled his cock out, already slick with precome just by being in his ex’s room again. He put the condom on and began thinking of Dean. 

_ Oh, Cameron, I missed you so much. I never should have left you.  _

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Cameron whispered to himself, “Fuck baby. I need you so much.” 

_ I love you so much more than him. You’re my only one. We’ll be together forever.  _

“Forever, always,” Cameron said shakily. 

_ Come for me, baby, make a mess in my bed. Let him find it so we can finally be together.  _

“Dean! Fuck!” 

Cameron came hard at the thought. He laid there a moment, inhaling Dean’s shirt once more before letting it fall back to it’s rightful spot on the floor. He pulled the condom off and left it beside him in the bed. He zipped his pants back up. His intricate web was laid out; the fly was very, very stupid; and the spider, well, he was very patient. Castiel Novak would be easy to trick and Dean would surely need a friend, a shoulder, someone who truly knew him better than anyone. 

All he needed to do was wait, and their love would come crumbling down like the stars they loved so much. Dean would finally be his, the way it was always meant to be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this, we begin Part II of the story (don't worry, it'll still be posted here).  
> Well, what do you think will happen next?  
> <3  
> Comments, loves, comments- I'm curious.
> 
> PS: For anyone who forgot Cameron, I suggest reading Chapter One again.
> 
> ___________________________________  
> Song List for Chapter 13:  
> (Title) Sweet Sixteen- Billy Idol  
> Pour Some Sugar on Me- Def Leppard  
> I Wanna Know What Love Is- Foreigner


	14. The Cold & Broken Hallelujah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end.”  
> ― John Lennon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: [Maybe] triggers (see end notes), Heavy Sexual Content, Language
> 
> So, this chapter's probably one of the heaviest that I'll have to write, or have written. I ask, as always, for patience and understanding- as with any story, things will not always be perfect or go the way we want them to go...but, they do, in fact, work out for the best eventually. So exercise patience.  
> Thank you for your love, patience and understanding, it means the world to me, as do comments (even if you probably want to throw something at me sometimes). Thank you. For all that you are. As always, next chapter will take no longer than a month...but hoping for less than that.  
> Welcome to the jungle (AKA, Part II).

* * *

* * *

 

_ April 10, 1999 _

 

Castiel finally dried his tears as he ran his fingers over the leather jacket. To be completely fair, he’d lasted longer than he thought. He’d stayed in his room, feeling sorry for himself the majority of the day, and it was mid-afternoon now. He hadn’t broken down and went to Dean’s, not yet. He didn’t want Sam to look at him like he was completely desperate...even though it was obvious by the way he lay with sticky tears, curled up on Dean’s side of the bed in his leather jacket. He knew desperate was nearing borderline pathetic.

Wasn’t that how the song went? It was his birthday, and he’d cry if he wanted to. It seemed like every holiday had some unexpected twist. He’d just wanted to have his cake and eat it too- and, by cake he mostly meant Dean. He’d take going back to jail over Dean leaving on a hunt on his birthday. At least they’d be together, then, and together was becoming a less and less frequent thing. There were hunts, and family time, and who knew what else Dean was doing that kept him away from Castiel. Either way, he didn’t like it. All he could hear were Dean’s words in his head: ‘It’s only for a little while’.

Those six words had become their motto. Dean always said it before he left, certainly meaning to assure Castiel that he’d come back. But Castiel had grown to hate the words. A little while was usually far too long: it could be days, maybe even weeks. Being away from Dean for any amount of time was unbearable.

Now, the only way to be close to him was to be near his things. So, Castiel caved. He peeled off his tear-stained pajamas, forcing himself to get dressed before tugging on the leather jacket again. The first time he drove his new car was to Dean’s trailer on the other side of town, and instead of being grateful, he found himself just wishing it was Dean behind the wheel of Baby, blaring music. Oldies weren’t the same without that cheesy grin, or Dean reaching over to the passenger’s seat to hold Castiel’s hand.

When he got to the trailer park, he didn’t even bother checking to see if Sam was home. Somehow it just seemed more fitting to climb in through the window. Dean did it all the time, anyway. He really made it look easy. Castiel struggled, before falling flat onto one of Dean’s piles of clothes, quickly coming to the conclusion that Sam wasn’t home.

He adjusted his glasses, before looking around. He was beginning to love the clutter. It was Dean’s mess, a part of him, a reflection of who he was. He didn’t think he’d mind sharing a bedroom with him, even if there were piles of dirty clothes all over the floor. He looked around, as though someone may be watching, before picking one of the shirts up off the floor and smelling it.

Confusion swept through him and he wrinkled his nose. This shirt didn’t smell like sweat, and faded deodorant, and leather. It didn’t smell like cake, or cars, or the football field. This scent was unfamiliar, new. He examined it. It was way too big to belong to Sam. 

The shirt slipped through his fingers, to the floor, noticing more clothes that he didn’t recognize. He stood up, trying to shake a random wave of nausea that went through him, to his gut.

He moved to the desk, looking for their research paper for history on the French Revolution, and instead, found a note on Dean’s desk in handwriting that was neither his own messy scrawl, or Dean’s blocked capital letters-

 

_ Hey Baby,  _

 

_ I know you have to go to that stupid party for your friend Castiel, but I need to see you. He takes up too much of your time as it is. I can’t wait. It’s been too long since I’ve felt your touch, so long since I’ve tasted your come on my tongue.  _

_ I want you to fuck my face, and come down my throat. I need to feel you inside of me. I want to feel your cock fucking me on the hood of your Impala. Then I’ll throw you in the backseat, fuck into you so good baby, while we’re listening to the licks of KISS. I know you love it when I take control, get on top of you, and fuck you into oblivion.  _

_ I love you so much, Dean. I know we’ll be together forever, just like you’ve always promised. I can’t wait to marry you and raise babies with you. I can’t wait to start our happily ever after.  _

 

_ With love always,  _

_ Your Sunshine _

  
  


_ Baby? Your  _ _ friend _ _ Castiel? Fucking in the Impala? Babies? Happily ever….after?  _

“Sunshine?” he croaked out loud.

Hearing his own voice squeak made the tears start to well in his eyes as he put the note down shakily on the table. Everything was starting to blur, and spin. He felt his mind going fuzzy, and his body numb as though he’d suddenly been thrust into ice. 

He moved to the bed, needing to sit, but stopped preemptively when he saw the used condom next to Dean’s pillow. He gagged, choking down vomit. 

This was where they had made love. This was where Dean had held him close, traced drawings into his skin...where they’d touched, and kissed, and made promises.

He broke.

Tears flooded his eyes, large droplets hitting the denim of his jeans, speckling his glasses, overflowing down on his cheeks as he tried and failed to choke down sobs. He was sure that he was dying.

_ Dean and I don’t even use condoms. I guess….he’s being safe…..at least that’s something.  _

He cried harder.

He ran out of the house, doubling over with his hands on his knees, gasping for air as he latched onto the bug, trying to stabilize himself. It felt like he was being punched in the gut. He struggled for air as his mind played thoughts too quickly for him to grasp at a single one and make sense of  them. He wanted to scream, and cry, and throw things. Everything was dark, and clouded, and he was dying.

_ Just a panic attack… _

There was no ‘just’ about it. No rationalizing it. He hyperventilated before throwing up on the side of the curb. And no one asked if he was alright. Because, instead of being with him on his birthday, or when he needed him- Dean was probably with someone else- this other sunshine, probably telling him that they were going to get married and have beautiful freckled babies while he held him in his arms.

He was so irrational that he didn’t care that he was still swimming in an ocean of his own tears when he got into the car and began driving home to put as much distance between that trailer, and himself as possible. He nearly collided with a car as he ran a stop sign, hitting the brakes just in time before pulling over to the side of the road and sobbing a little more before he could regain enough of his senses to drive the rest of the way back.

_ Fuck _ , Castiel thought, running to the porch and throwing the front door open, making a bolt for the stairs.  _ How could he do this to me after everything!? On my fucking birthday. Was it all just a lie? How long...has it been the whole time? I’m so fucking stupid. Who is it? Who is he? _

He shut his bedroom door behind him, resting his body against it, trying to catch his breath before bursting into tears again.

The AC/DC shirt he’d worn to bed was on the floor.

Lord of the Rings sat on the nightstand.

Mixtapes sat littered amongst his CDs, because Dean was still so old-fashioned, so fucking stubborn…

_ Fuck. _

_ Fuck. _

_ Why? Why would you do this? How could you just throw everything away- after everything- after everything you know, everything we’ve been through? Why? Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Who is he, Dean? Does he go to school with us? Do you just laugh at how stupid I am for thinking you could ever...that you could ever… _

He collapsed on the bed, cloudy eyes focusing on the stars. He wanted to rip them all down and light them on fire. They were lies, too.

_ Marriage...babies, happily ever afters with cafes and cupcakes...and a future. Our happiness. Has he really just been feeding the same bullshit to some other guy? I’m not special, I’m just naive. I bet he has a leather jacket too, and a fucking ring. _

He looked down at his hand, trying to pry the ring off. It was stuck. When it finally came off, he threw it against the wall, and it thudded against the wall, falling against one of those stupid mixtapes. He went and picked it up instantly, holding it in his hand, thumbing over the green emerald.

The anger started then, boiling his insides in turmoil as he began pacing back and forth.

_ He promised me forever. That bastard promised me forever. That lying, cheating, fucking bastard promised me forever. _

He went to his closet, pulling out a box and dumping its contents on the floor- old books that he barely read that couldn’t fit on his bookcase. Instead, he left them on the floor and began filling the box with as much of Dean’s shit as he could find.

First, he pulled open the bottom drawer of his dresser, which had become Dean’s for when he snuck over. He shoved all of his clothes into the box, as well as the spare deodorant, cologne, and the bottle of lube rolled up into a pair of pajama pants that Dean never wore. All those stupid action movies that weren’t really that great anyway- school books and Dean’s homework and notes. A handful of notes.

Even though he was hurt, and angry, he couldn’t bring himself to part with some things. Some notes were too precious. He looked at the mixtapes, tossing most of them into the box as well. His Christmas present, he thumbed over, tossing it aside even though the last thing he wanted to hear at the moment was Dean singing about how crazy he was about him. He looked down at the leather jacket. His heart ached, and stung at the thought of letting it go. It predated their relationship, the first real sign of Dean’s affection for him. He didn’t want to let it go...but he did, anyway, setting it down gently on top of the box. Dean needed to know how serious he was.

He turned away before he could process it, grabbing the cordless off of his pillow, and rolling over towards his desk, where he couldn’t see those fucking stars. He pressed the speed dial. 

The phone rang once, then twice.

_ Please, please answer. _

“Hey, love,” Balthazar’s voice came from the other end of the phone, “I didn’t think you’d be calling to schedule so soon with the…” there was a pause, then a concerned, “Cassie...are you crying?”

“No…” Castiel choked out.

“What’s happened?”

“Balthazar…” Castiel sobbed, unable to stop himself, no matter how weak he looked, “I can’t...Balthazar…”  his fingers gripped at the phone, not wanting to let the idea of Balthazar go.

“I’m on my way, love, okay? Just stay where you are.”

Castiel nodded like Balthazar could hear him before whispering in broken tears, “...hurry.”

 

* * *

 

Balthazar had never rushed out the door faster in his entire life. His heart pounded the entire fifteen minutes to get to the Novak house, and Hershal was shocked to see him sitting in the front seat, if for no other reason than to bark at him to drive faster.

He ascended the stairs of the Novak house like a white knight on a mission to either slay a beast or rescue a princess.

Seeing no cars in the drive save for the yellow bug made his skin crawl. An empty Novak house was never a welcome sight, not after  _ that _ day. 

He didn’t bother with knocking, instead, throwing the door open and hitting Anna, causing her to stumble to the banister. “Ugh, rude!” she squawked, staring at Balthazar, “Have you heard of knocking, dweeb?”

Balthazar rolled his eyes, not bothering to answer, and instead, ran up the stairs. His only pause was at the door, which was askew, and the room inside dim and too quiet for comfort. He felt nerves rise up, his hand resting on the knob before pushing the door open, “Cassie?”

The room looked like it had survived some sort of natural disaster, just barely...far from its usually meticulous state. He eyed the box, confusion sweeping through him before he noticed Castiel on the floor, face buried into his hands, wads of tissue at his side.

Balthazar crouched down, drawing him into his embrace, “I’m here, love, I’m here. Do you want to talk about it?”

Castiel cried harder, burying his face into Balthazar’s shoulder, clinging onto him.

“Balthazar,” he sobbed.

“That’s right, love, I’m right here. Not going anywhere.”

_ Not like Dean, _ Castiel thought,  _ Dean left me...Dean’s gone...he’s gone and he’s never coming back. He’s a liar. It’s so much longer than a little while...it’s forever. Idiot. _

“Balthazar…” Castiel tried again, “I don’t wanna be here...I don’t want to...I can’t…”

“It’s okay, love, let’s go...we’ll call your mum later.” He pulled out a handkerchief, embroidered with a golden ‘R’, tilting Castiel’s chin up and dabbing his eyes with it, “Let’s get you out of here, come on. We’ll go anywhere you want. What...what happened, Cassie?”

“It’s Dean,” Castiel said, finally, his gut sinking with the name, “I think he’s cheating on me...I...I think we’re over…” He broke down, sobbing again, even as he forced himself up, leaning heavily on Balthazar for support.

Balthazar didn’t argue, even though it was hard for him to believe, “C’mon love, let’s get you out of here, we can talk in the car.”

Castiel didn’t know whether it was the fresh air or just putting some distance between himself and Dean’s things, but he could breath easier now. Anger and pain were quickly replacing the overwhelming sadness. His eyes began to dry. They drove in silence halfway to Balthazar’s house before Castiel spoke again. 

“I was missing him. That bastard. So I went over to his house, and I found all this stuff. There were clothes all over the floor and a love letter on the desk and a condom on the bed. We don’t even use condoms. Sorry, I know that’s probably more than you wanted to hear.” 

Balthazar listened silently, pulling Castiel in on his shoulder, rubbing his back soothingly, and letting him finish his thoughts before responding, “You know it’s not your fault, Cassie. Anyone who can’t appreciate you doesn’t deserve you. That’s not what you want to hear, I know that. You want me to tell you that it’s going to be all right- but I’m going to tell you the truth. And I’m not just saying that because I don’t want you blaming yourself. What a sodding idiot if he couldn’t see what was right in front of him. You...you deserve better. You’re going to leave him, yes?” He almost said it as a statement, rather than a question. Balthazar seemed almost angry.

“His stuff is in a box on my desk. As soon as he gets back from...wherever he is...I’m giving it to him. It’ll be...over.” 

“Good. Cassie. I’m not saying it’ll be easy...but maybe...no, definitely...it’s definitely for the best. You’ll find someone else in time. You deserve someone who can give you the love you give to them. God, I’m so...I’m so angry. I never liked him, Cassie, you know I didn’t...but how could I have been so blind to let this happen to you?”

“I never thought he was capable of this. We were so happy. I’ve never been happier in my life. I don’t think I’ll ever feel like that with someone else. Not again. I could never trust someone that much again.” 

“I…” Balthazar felt his face heating up, “I know you think that now; but, it’s not true, Cassie. There’s a whole world of people out there better for you than Dean Winchester. People that would never do something so terrible…” he took Castiel’s hand, stroking his thumb with his own.

The car stopped and Hershal opened the door for them. They walked the long garden path up to the Roche mansion, up the stairs, and to Balthazar’s wing of the house in silence. As Balthazar opened the door to his room, Castiel brushed passed him almost icily. When the door closed, Balthazar looking a bit perplexed, Castiel finally spoke. His voice was quiet, but unwavering. “Like you, Balthazar? Is it true? That you have feelings for me?” 

“Yes,” Balthazar admitted without skipping a beat, though his heart was beating strangely hard for someone who was normally so coolly focused and calm, “But, this isn’t about my feelings, Cassie. It’s about you and yours. My feelings are there, if only to serve as a means to show you that you’re not alone...that you’re fully capable of being loved.” He talked a little faster, “Please let me have my say, and I’ll be honest, like we’ve always been with each other. I know the timing isn’t right. If I had known that Dean Winchester was going to waltz into your life, maybe I would have had the courage to say it sooner. I’m in love with you, Cassie. I have been since we were young, since I realized what it was to be in love with someone.” His gray eyes were shining with a firm determination, “Maybe not now, or maybe you couldn’t feel the same...but...would it be difficult to change us...what we already have? The trust is there, the love is there. I won’t press the matter, Cassie, because regardless, you’re my best friend. But, if you should ever decide to give me a chance, I know I can treat you better than he can. Someone as special as you deserves a gentleman...not some ruffian who is too blind to realize what he had. That’s it. That’s...that’s all I’ll say. I don’t want this to change us, Cassie. But you need to know that you...you’re loved.”

A single tear slid down Castiel’s cheek. He stood in silence for what seemed the longest seconds of Balthazar’s life, before nearly whispering “...Really?”

Balthazar smiled, just a little, taking a few steps until he was just in front of Castiel, his thumb tracing the tear until it had vanished against his skin, “Didn’t you know that, love?”

Castiel realized he was nervous, shaking even. He shouldn’t be. They were best friends since they were kids. But he was also Balthazar Roche, and even more so than Dean Winchester, men wanted to be him and both women and men wanted to have him.  _ And, as it turns out, the person that he wants is….me? Why?  _

“Balthazar...I...I don’t think I can do this...I can’t...it’s...it’s all happening so fast and I...I just can’t…” 

The sadness was taking over again.  _ I can’t. I’d be no better than he is. I haven’t even broken up with him yet. This is wrong.  _

“Cassie, look at me,” Balthazar said, tilting Castiel’s chin up from where he’d been looking down. They were the same height, so it wasn’t too hard to get him back to eye-level, “I’m not asking you to do anything, okay? We can stay the same as we always have been, and I’ll be fine with that. I know it’s hard, and I know you’re h…”

“I am hurting,” Castiel cut him off.  _ He hurt me, He cheated first. We’re over anyway. I deserve to be happy. Give him a taste of his own medicine,  _ “I...I don’t want to hurt anymore Balthazar. I just…” 

His lips crashed into Balthazar’s, pulling away for only a second before he kissed him again, this time slipping his tongue past his lips and coaxing Balthazar’s. 

Balthazar’s eyes widened in that split second, asking wordlessly if Castiel was sure. The second kiss, he couldn’t say no to. He eased into it, resting his palm against the back of Castiel’s head, pulling him closer and meeting him in the kiss, fingers running gently through his messy hair, as the other arm went around his waist, pulling him in closer. 

_ NO! STOP! THIS IS SO WRONG! YOU LOVE DEAN! NO! FUCK HIM! HE CHEATED ON ME! WHO CARES IF IT’S WRONG? GET EVEN!  _

Castiel’s mind was screaming, not sure which side of the battle to fight for, but his body was heating up at Balthazar’s touch. It was strange. Balthazar’s skin was softer than Dean’s, but his touch was rougher, more dominant, and he found himself liking it. His knees felt weak and his stomach was in knots, whether it was guilty pleasure or just plain guilt it was hard to say. 

Being with Dean had changed Castiel. He wasn’t shy any more. He was more confident. He knew what he liked. He remembered how Dean had always pictured him while he was masturbating in bed.  _ Did Balthazar do that to?  _

“Lay me down on the bed, Balthazar. Isn’t that how you’ve always pictured kissing me? While I was sleeping right next to you, so close and yet so far?” 

“I…” Balthazar actually looked taken aback.  _ Is this really what you want, Cassie, or am I ruining us forever? No. Show him. Words are nothing if actions cannot uphold them. Show him why you deserve him- how hard you’ve worked- how long you’ve waited to have this moment.  _  He began walking Castiel backward, holding his hand in their stride, so Castiel wouldn’t lose balance, at least not until they hit the plush feathers of Balthazar’s large bed, sinking into it just perfectly, Balthazar still backing Castiel up, further onto the bed, his knee caught between his thighs dominantly, fingers interlocked, as Balthazar drug their arms above Castiel’s head, “Tell me if you want me to stop.” He warned, before his lips moved to Castiel’s neck, tongue pressing against the sensitive spots, kissing hard, only until light bruises began to form, and then he’d move away, letting the marks disappear entirely, confident in his skill. He felt Castiel’s legs shaking beneath him. Balthazar was no stranger to Castiel’s darkest desires, it came as an added bonus of being his best friend. He squeezed a little harder on Castiel’s wrist, keeping him pinned down.

“Please, don’t stop,” Castiel moaned, “Balthazar.”

“Say it again,” Balthazar whispered hotly against the skin of Castiel’s collarbone, his free hand tracing feather-light touches against his side, until his fingers slipped under the material of Castiel’s shirt, touching warm skin, and shuddering from his position on top of his...what were they now? Lovers? Friends? Both? Regardless, Balthazar wanted more...he was a Roche...he always wanted more.

“Balthazar,” he moaned again, the hand that wasn’t pinned reaching up and unbuttoning Balthazar’s vest. “Please, don’t stop. I need you.” 

Needing him was the only reason Castiel had ever had to give, and Balthazar had been there, in whatever way the need required. This one, he was more than happy to oblige. His fingers unlatched from Castiel’s, tilting him gently up and kissing his lips just long enough to loosen the shirt, and begin to pull it deftly off. He laid Castiel back down, looking down and appreciating his bare chest, caressing him with soft fingers, before leaning to kiss his chest, nipping gently at one of his nipples.

Castiel sucked in breath. It wasn’t something Dean did very often, so he wasn’t used to the sensation. He smiled, kissing him back. He finished the buttons on the vest and shoved it away. “Take your shirt off, Balthazar. Strip for me.” 

They’d seen each other naked a handful of times, mostly growing up- but, Balthazar had a pool. It was nothing Castiel hadn’t seen a dozen or more times at least. 

Balthazar was built differently than Dean, but built regardless. He was leaner, his stomach a little flatter, but defined. He had the body of a dancer, someone who’d taken lessons since he was old enough to walk. His arms were strong, too, but hidden a little more beneath his normal long sleeves. He obeyed with precision, standing up and pulling his shirt off as though he’d stripped tons of times before. The shirt came off, and his hair was still flawless. 

Balthazar didn’t have Dean’s insecurities. There were no scars on his skin, no ‘problem areas’ to be seen. He was Balthazar Roche, and he knew he was stunning. He kicked off his shoes by the bed, socks following until he was left in a pair of black dress pants. He climbed back on the bed, knee between Castiel’s legs again as he began unbuttoning his pants, locking lips again, confidence exuding in every kiss.

Castiel tugged at Balthazar’s belt, before biting his lower lip. “You’re not finished yet. I want to see you naked. Sexy.” He smiled up at Balthazar.  

“And, are you used to getting what you want, Cassie?” Balthazar asked, moving to Castiel’s ear, biting down on the lobe.

He had to think a moment, as  a shiver went up his spine. He was used to getting what he wanted. He never had to ask, Dean just knew. 

“Yes,” he breathed, hands running greedily over Balthazar’s back and chest. 

Balthazar laughed against Castiel’s ear, “Then how do you know it’s what you want at all? I think I’ll leave them on, just for now. Curious little love, aren’t you?” The denim of Castiel’s jeans slid from beneath him, leaving him in his boxers, “Though, I have to admit, I’m a bit curious, too,” his hand slipped between Castiel’s legs. If he was nervous, he wasn’t showing it.

Castiel, however, was so nervous his body was shaking. He knew from past experiences that he was smaller than Dean, who never complained, but maybe that’s why he’d needed to find someone else.  _ What if I’m small to Balthazar too?  _ He suddenly felt extremely self conscious. Especially, when he was certain that Balthazar had had countless other lovers from here to London and any place in between. Balthazar never really talked about his exploits. He wasn’t sure how he’d compare as a lover.  _ I wonder if I’m bad in bed. Is that why Dean left? Found someone else?  _ He pushed the thoughts away, focusing on his best friend. 

“Balthazar,” he moaned at his touch, wrapping his arms around his neck, one hand pulling at those perfect blonde roots. 

Balthazar moaned, head thrusting back with Castiel’s touch. He pulled away only briefly, “Lay back on the pillows,” he commanded, as though Castiel, too, was subject to his will.

Castiel did as he was told. He was good at that. He’d had a lot of practice. 

Balthazar moved to his second-bedroom sized walk in closet. He emerged with the button and zipper of his pants undone, a bit of royal purple underwear poking out. He had two matching ties in his hands. He stopped to admire Castiel, mostly naked on his bed, before locking his gray eyes with Castiel’s blue, “Hands towards the posts, Cassie,” he demanded.

Castiel’s heart pounded. This was something he and Dean did on rare occasions. But he was eager to please. He stretched his arms out towards the posts. 

Balthazar’s focus instantly turned to tying Castiel down with such expertise that he wouldn’t be able to move if he tried, “No touching,” he instructed, even as his hips grinded against Castiel’s as he sat up. He looked at his handiwork, grinning before tracing his fingers lightly against Castiel’s skin...first his chest, then his sides, almost lightly enough to be tickled. Then, he moved to his thighs, stroking the insides, until Castiel’s shaking legs opened to him. He sucked small bruises there, too, each fading quickly until a small pool of precome had leaked through the front of Castiel’s boxer-briefs. Balthazar licked his lips, “You look so helpless, love…”

“Rescue me,” Castiel whispered, struggling a little against the ties to play along, “Save me, please”

“You have it all wrong, Cassie. I’m not your hero, I’m the villain. Isn’t that what you like?” From Draco Malfoy, to Spike, and others, Balthazar knew Castiel had a secret weakness for the bad guy. 

Balthazar tugged off Castiel’s shoes and socks, before tugging his underwear shamelessly down as well. He almost broke character, only to tell Castiel that he was beautiful. More beautiful than he could’ve imagined. “Now I have you where I want you.” 

His long fingers wrapped around Castiel’s cock, beginning to pump, climbing up closer, biting gently into his neck, “And you love it.”

_ NO! STOP! You hate this! You’re in love with Dean!  _ His mind screamed, but Balthazar’s touch felt so good. 

“I do,” Castiel shuddered, his cock dripping into Balthazar’s hand, “I...fuck Balthazar...I love it.” 

“I know you do,” Balthazar said assuredly, “I know you, Cassie. I know what you want...what you like. How to make your legs shake. God, love, you’re so wet. I’ve only just started with you.” He edged away, sinking lower on his feather-soft mattress, until his lips pursed, blowing cold air against Castiel’s cock, before catching the droplets of precome with his thumb, “We’ve only just begun.” His lips closed around Castiel’s cock, licking and sucking gently at the head, before dropping lower.

Castiel didn’t mean to, but his hips bucked into Balthazar’s mouth instinctively He tried to stop him, to have him slow down, but his hands were tied, literally. His body was on fire. 

“Balthazar, fuck...you’re going to make me….I...I don’t want to let go so soon. Not yet. We’ve only just begun.” 

Balthazar’s tongue wrapped around the tip of Castiel’s cock, sucking once more before coming off, “No, Cassie, you’re not going to come. Not yet. Understand? You’re not going to come until I say you can. Not until you’re incapable of thought, until your legs are shaking so badly you couldn’t stand if you tried.” He sank back down, letting Castiel hit the back of his throat like he was nothing. 

“Balthazar….it’s too much. I...I...I can’t hold back. Please...don’t be so cruel.” 

“Cruel?” Balthazar asked, popping off of Castiel’s cock, and getting on his own knees, “And you haven’t been cruel?” he teased, nodding down at the noticeable bulge in his dress pants, that actually looked a little damp. “Just looking at you like this is torture. But I love it.”  _ I love you. _

“Then stop teasing. Let me take care of you,” Castiel coaxed, licking his lips. 

Balthazar tried to look confused, “You don’t like being tied up with your cock dripping wet for me?” He pulled the pants down over his hips, “Is this what you want, Cassie? You’ll have to ask nicely.”

“Please,” Castiel begged, blue eyes looking up at him. 

Balthazar ran his finger over Castiel’s bottom lip, before untying him slowly, one hand, then another, “Tell me what you want, Cassie.”

“I want you. I want to taste you,” he crawled onto his hands and knees, pulling Balthazar closer by the hem of his boxer briefs, sneaking a peek while he was at it. 

Balthazar’s skin was smooth from his chest, to the area below his bellybutton, and even under the hem of his boxer-briefs was completely hairless- like one of those marble statues from Rome, or Greece. Balthazar blushed before he could help himself, “Do you like what you see?” he asked, trying to recover. He was bigger than Castiel, but not by entirely too much- definitely not Dean. But he was hard, and smooth, and wet below the belt...all for Castiel.

“Yes,” Castiel replied, blue eyes staring up at Balthazar, even as he pulled the boxers down and wrapped his lips around Balthazar’s cock. He, himself, wasn’t shaved. He was trimmed, and Dean had been, too. He wondered if it bothered Balthazar. 

Balthazar’s knees started shaking almost instantly, his fingers curling gently into Castiel’s hair. It was strange, where Balthazar was gentle was where Dean was usually rough. And where Balthazar had been rough, it was where Dean was sweet and tender. They were truly almost opposite. “Cassie,” Balthazar breathed shakily, running his hands gently along Castiel’s neck and shoulders.

“Say it again,” Castiel purred. 

“Cassie,” Balthazar moaned, pushing Castiel away, “I can’t do this.”

“What?” Castiel asked, sitting up quickly, “Am I...bad at it? Did I do something wrong?”

Balthazar laughed, pushing Castiel back down amongst  the down feather pillows, climbing on top of him and kissing him, before whispering in his ear, “No, it’s not that. I don’t want to come yet, love. You’re amazing.” He kissed him again, tongue edging between his lips, their hips rocking together, sticking as the kisses deepened. 

Castiel reached between them, stroking Balthazar’s cock. “I want you inside of me.” 

Balthazar rolled off of Castiel, reaching down to his granite-topped nightstand, opening one of the drawers and pulling out a small box of unopened condoms, opening it without hesitation. When he came back to Castiel, he pushed a long strand of dark, messy hair behind his ear, “You sure, love?” He was still out of breath from kissing, pink tinged across his cheeks.

Castiel was glad that Balthazar was using condoms, he didn’t want to ask and kill the mood. He nodded. “I’m sure. Please, I want you.” 

“Alright, love,” Balthazar agreed, slipping the condom on before climbing back on top of Castiel, tilting his hips up, and kissing him one more time before slipping inside of him.

As with everything else, Balthazar Roche didn’t skimp when it came to pleasure. The condom was lubricated, thin, and ribbed. It took a couple thrusts before he bottomed out, biting down on his own lip as he did so, his hand shaking where he was still gripping onto Castiel’s hip.

Castiel’s heart tore in two. He loved Dean, he was still so much in love with him, but he’d also always cared deeply about Balthazar. His mind was still screaming, fighting against itself. 

_ No! Stop him! Stop this right now! No, he cheated first. Fuck him. I want to get even. Fuck...he feels so good.  _

“Balthazar,” he moaned, gripping into the sheets, “Oh God...Balthazar…” 

Balthazar gripped down on Castiel’s wrist again, pinning him down as his lips latched desperately to his best friend’s. Balthazar Roche was shaking, small beads of sweat dripping down his usually cool features. He was letting go in a way that Castiel had never seen. Balthazar’s elbow was on the side of Castiel’s head, gripping senselessly into his hair, running his fingers through it as he used the same arm to keep himself up, thrusting until he knew each time he’d hit the sweet spot that made Castiel gasp.

“Balthazar!” Castiel cried out, coming hard, his nails raked up his lover’s back as his come shot out onto the flawless muscles of Balthazar’s stomach. “Fuck!” Castiel gasped, trying to catch his breath, “Oh my God Balthazar! Balthazar!” 

Balthazar didn’t have time to react. His stomach tightened, and he came hard inside of Castiel before he could even think. He’d been trying so hard not to, focused on lasting as long as he could. “Cassie, god love...oh...god…” he moaned loudly with one more strong thrust, “Beautiful, beautiful love...precious love…” he murmured off as they both came down, kissing him again and again.

A wave of guilt came crashing down on Castiel.  _ I can’t believe I just did that. I cheated...on Dean. No, it serves him right. He cheated first. Then why do I feel so sick? Please, don’t let me throw up on Balthazar.  _ Another wave of guilt hit him.  _ Balthazar, poor Balthazar. What have I done to us?  _

Castiel pulled Balthazar closer, running fingers through his blonde locks. 

Balthazar didn’t have to look at Castiel, just held him, before whispering in his hair, “Please don’t cry, Cassie.”

“I’m not crying,” he insisted, before tears spilled onto the pillow where his face was buried. 

“Aw, no love, don’t cry. Please, please don’t cry…” Balthazar asked softly, wiping tears away from Castiel’s eyes. “Cassie...I know it doesn’t seem like it right now...but, everything, it’s going to be all right.”

Castiel didn’t reply. He didn’t know what to say.  _ I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Balthazar.  _ He clung to the pillow. 

Balthazar scooped him up, not unlike a ragdoll, “You haven’t ruined us, love. Don’t ever think that. I’m sorry if you think I’ve let you make a terrible mistake,” he soothed him, running his fingers gently through his hair. “I can’t think of it like that. Look at me, love.” Balthazar stroked Castiel’s hair behind his ear, “Do you remember in the third grade...when you picked me a flower? You stuck your arm through the schoolyard fence to get it, and by the time you’d grabbed it, half the petals had fallen off,” Balthazar laughed. 

“No,” Castiel sniffled, clinging onto Balthazar.

“Well, you did. It was a yellow wildflower.” Balthazar nodded towards one of his bookshelves, “And it’s still pressed in the pages of that  _ I Spy  _ book we used to love so much. You know that was the day I realized I loved you? I didn’t know anything else, but that you were special, just like that flower, and that I wanted to keep you close...forever. And, love...no matter what you need...that won’t change.” Balthazar couldn’t help smiling, “You were so proud of that flower. You said it was beautiful. Yellow’s been your favorite color ever since.”

_ Could I have had feelings for Balthazar this whole time?  _ Castiel thought,  _ He’s right. It wouldn’t change us that much. No, you still love Dean. It’s wrong. This was wrong. We should have waited. What if there had never been a Dean? What if Balthazar would have asked first? Would I have said yes?  _

Castiel’s mind was reeling, feeling a swarm of emotions all at once. He needed to think his next move through, more carefully than the rash reactions he’d had all day. He needed time to breathe and think and most of all sleep. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this exhausted. A pang of guilt hit the bottom of his stomach, almost ashamed to ask, but somehow the words found their way out. 

“Could you just hold me? While we sleep? Please, Balthazar.” 

“Of course, love,” Balthazar paused, awkwardly because the two of them were still naked, “How about this...showers first, then I’ll go get you something to eat...don’t look at me like that, you need to eat...and then we can sleep it off until the morning. You can have the ensuite bathroom, I’ll use the one in the guest room if it’ll make you more comfortable. There’s a spare robe, and I’ll find you some pajamas. But...Cassie...please, stay. I’d feel better if you did.”

_ Of course I’m staying. What kind of asshole would I be if I left now?  _

Castiel nodded, though the thought of food made him nauseous. 

Balthazar winced as he moved, feeling himself finally slip completely away from Castiel, as though the moment couldn’t have been more awkward, “Wait here.” He was still naked as he walked to the bathroom.

Castiel pulled the blankets tighter around himself as the sound of Balthazar’s walk-in shower could be heard running.

Balthazar returned with a fluffy white towel wrapped around his waist, but otherwise still naked, “Everything’s ready for you, love. I’ll hurry and meet you back here with food. You can order a movie if you’d like,” he suggested, nodding to the TV, “Or...really, whatever you want.”

Castiel threw the blankets back and hurried into the shower. He didn’t want movies or food or special privileges. He’d never felt so horrible in his entire life. Dean may have cheated first, but two wrongs didn’t make a right. And he felt horrible about Balthazar. Even if they could love each other, they should never have rushed into this so hastily. He felt sick, as he began scrubbing his skin. 

Balthazar Roche had never showered so quickly in his life. He was in and out of the shower in ten minutes solid, mostly out of the guilt that he’d wished Castiel would have told him to join him...mostly that he wanted to wrap his arms around him and tell him that it was going to be all right.

He looked downstairs for Hershal, hair still dripping, a white robe snug around him, a towel around his neck, catching the droplets of water before they could hit the golden embroidered ‘R’ on the robe.

Agitated at Hershal’s disappearance, he decided to take matters into his own hands, rummaging in the stocked refrigerator, even more displeased to realize that nothing was pre-cooked. What was he going to do with a raw bunch of kale? “He could have let me know if he was running errands…” Balthazar grumbled, looking at a bowl full of eggs.

“Son,” Mr. Roche said, clearing his throat behind Balthazar, “You’ve done something entirely stupid, haven’t you?” 

“Christ!” Balthazar swore, jumping back, “Dad...you...you’re home.”

“I’ve been home for some time, but I can see you’ve been otherwise preoccupied. Do you even know what to do with eggs?”

“I can peel an egg, dad,” Balthazar retorted, “I’m not completely helpless. Aren’t they hard-boiled- the ones Hershal puts in my lunch?” 

Mr. Roche dropped one of the eggs on the floor. It cracked, oozing yolk. “It would appear not. Now clean this mess up, before it gets bigger than the one you’re already presently in.” 

“You clean it up,” Balthazar huffed, “You made the mess to begin with.”

They both stood in silence, staring at the egg spreading across the floor, “Dad?”

“Yes, son?”

“Do you really think I ruined everything?”

“I think jumping into that boy’s pants before he’s had time to think things through was poor judgement on your part, but love is often blind and you’ve been in love with him for God knows how long. Isn’t he still with that Winchester boy?” 

“How terrible do you think I am? No! I mean, well...yes...but not for long. The arsehole cheated on him.”

“Even so, you just said they were sickeningly cute two days ago. You have to give it time, or this won’t end well for you.” 

Balthazar blushed faintly, murmuring as he finally closed the refrigerator, “I...I didn’t start it...not really.”

“It doesn’t matter, son. It’s called a rebound for a reason,” he said as gently as he could, placing a hand on Balthazar’s shoulder. 

Balthazar looked a little appalled, stepping away, his bare foot smearing in the egg goo on the floor, “Ugh…” he groaned, disgusted, “Dad…” he looked up, pain stinging his expression, “Why would you say that to me? Is it that hard to believe that he could love me?”

“No, son, I don’t think it’s hard to believe at all, but you’re going about it the wrong way. I don’t want to see you hurt.” 

“It wouldn’t make a difference. At least I’m doing something. I...have to get back upstairs. I’m glad you’re home. Can you…” he looked down at the messy floor, “Have something sent up? I couldn’t find Hershal.”

“He’s out getting our dinner. I heard that Cassie was over and took the liberty of ordering his usual. He’ll be back shortly. I’ll let Hershal take care of this as well when he returns.” He gestured to the egg on the floor. “And Balthazar?”

“Yes, Dad?” 

“Do be careful...and safe.”

“You’re one to talk,” Balthazar quipped, before turning and walking back upstairs.

Castiel was curled up under the blankets, hoping sleep would take him before Balthazar’s return. But, of course, it didn’t, and Balthazar slid smoothly under the silky sheets, “Are you alright, love?” he asked, gently, pushing a strand of damp hair away from Castiel’s eyes. It was a stupid question. 

Castiel gave him the briefest of looks that said all that needed to be said, before pulling Balthazar’s arm around him. “Do you think...things would be different between us? If you had asked me before all of this happened? Would it be different between us?” 

“I ask myself that all the time, Cassie. I guess...I always thought that maybe one day, I’d have the courage to ask...and that would be that...but, I got beaten to it. I...I never did think it would be a difficult change in our dynamic, if that’s what you’re asking,” Balthazar mumbled, snuggling closer to him, “I always thought we could be something special, you and I. I don’t regret it, honestly...if there’s anything I regret it’s that I didn’t ask sooner, or that we didn’t have a proper date first. I’d like to take you on one.”

Castiel couldn’t help but smile a little, “What a gentleman. And what would we do on this date?”  _ Certainly not burgers and milkshakes at the diner,  _ he thought almost bitterly, a pain in his heart at the memory. 

Balthazar couldn’t help lace their fingers. It wasn’t as though it was something they hadn’t ever done before Dean. He kissed his hand, “I thought I might take you dancing. Ahem,” he pulled Castiel’s hand away from his lips, “When you’re ready.”

_ Balthazar really is a gentleman. I deserve to go dancing. Dean’s never taken me dancing. What if people saw us? What would they say? I guess everyone pretty much knows me and Dean are going out...were going out. So it’s not like much would change. Am I...falling for Balthazar?  _ Castiel’s thoughts were racing again and he just wanted it to stop. 

“I just need a bit of time. That’s all. You understand, don’t you?” 

“Of course, love. There’s no rush. Take all the time you need. Until then, I’ll be here, however you need me. Always, love. I promise you, always.”

 

* * *

 

_ Way too Early o’ Clock, April 11, 1999  _

 

Dean was trying to be quiet, he really was, as he dared turn the stereo up a few notches, letting  _ I Can’t Fight This Feeling _ play, at least loud enough so he could hear the words. It was only a few seconds into the song that his fingers started drumming on the steering wheel. “And even as I wander, I’m keeping you in sight...you’re the candle in the window on a cold, dark winter’s night...and I’m getting closer than I ever thought I might…” He drummed harder on the steering wheel.

“Dean…” John growled, rustling in the passenger’s seat, pulling his jacket off of his head from where he’d been trying to sleep, “Knock that shit off.”

“Sorry, sir,” Dean said, tapping his fingers a little more quietly.

“I’ve never seen you hunt ghosts so fast in your life, kid. Should leave the little wifey at home more often. Makes you work harder.”

Dean grinned. They rarely had such successful hunts. Dad had taken him less than two hours to Mount Marty College, in Yankton, on a ghost chase. Between their sweeps of the college, Dean was certain that they had laid the old legends of the school to rest quickly, and had been on their way.

At first, John had been insistent about keeping Dean out for a while to do some more hunts...stay sharp, but, as the hunt escalated, so did John’s confidence.

Dean was...faster, maybe? Stronger? Certainly more focused, more determined. 

Seeing Castiel’s tears at their  departure, had been motivation enough to come back as quickly as possible. Dean still didn’t get the whole birthday deal. Castiel’s birthday had been utterly amazing. He and Balthazar and the whole of the Novak family had seen to that. It had certainly been better than all of Dean’s birthdays before he’d met Castiel, combined. But it was over now, and Dean had other obligations. 

_ You don’t get more than one day for your birthday, do you?  _ Dean thought. Then he remembered how Castiel had gone all out for his birthday, doing something special every day that weekend.  _ Shit. I’ll make it up to him.  _

He drove faster. 

John sat up. “I was beginning to think Sam was with us. The way you were snoring last night.” 

They both laughed. 

It had been so long since they had gotten along this well. Just them, monsters, and classic rock. It was their element.  _ Radar Love  _ started playing. Dean started singing again and even John drummed his fingers along. 

 

_ I’ve been drivin’ all night, my hand’s wet on the wheel _

_ There’s a voice in my head that drives my heel _

_ It’s my baby callin’, says I need you here _

_ And it’s a half past four and I’m shiftin’ gear _

_ When she is lonely and the longing gets too much  _

_ She sends a cable comin’ in from above _

_ Don’t need no phone at all _

_ We’ve got a thing that’s called radar love _

_ We’ve got a wave in the air, radar love _

 

* * *

 

 

_ Still Way too Early o’ Clock (but a little later), April 11, 1999, _

 

It was nearly four in the morning when Dean arrived with John back in Sioux Falls, rolling into the gravel drive of their little trailer. Dean had barely parked when he jumped out of the car.

“Hey- what’s your hurry?” John laughed.

“You know what!” Dean said, halfway up to the trailer. He smiled as he opened the door to his room, almost half expecting Castiel to be there, curled up against his pillow, waiting on him. Instead, he found his room in precisely the state he left it- which wasn’t clean, but not entirely messy. He went to his desk, sitting his bag beside it, and stared at the project for History that he and Castiel had been working on, finding it vaguely strange that it was still present. He’d told Castiel he could come over and get it. It was still early Sunday morning though, and there wasn’t school until tomorrow- so, maybe he’d just not gotten around to it.

John was still lugging things up the stairs to the tiny trailer porch as Dean flew out the door again, this time with his football bag, “See you later.”

“I’m heading out, Dean, going to Mississippi. Won’t be back for awhile. I’ll leave money on the counter.” 

“Drive safely, sir,” Dean said, nonchalantly, swinging the door of the Impala shut and heading straight for Castiel’s.

He was baffled to not find his loved one there, either, as he climbed in the window. He turned on the beside light, looking for a note or any clues as to his angel’s disappearance.

What he found confused him even more- books scattered around the closet, wads of tissue on the floor, and all of his own stuff filling up a box- leather jacket on top. He tilted his head, picking up his clothes one garment at a time, a handful of tapes, “What the…?” He looked at the door, “Cas...what is this? Where are you?” he spoke softly aloud, unable to shake the discomfort that started in his gut, and worked its way to his heart.

 

* * *

 

Castiel woke up from a restless night of tears and nightmares still in white silk sheets and Balthazar’s slender arms wrapped around him. He had a sickening knot in his stomach. He rolled out of bed and put on his clothes from the day before. They were stained with tears and snot from where he’d cried his eyes out, but he couldn’t bear the thought of walking through the front door wearing something of Balthazar’s.  _ God, if Mom saw me...she would just know. I hope she’s still asleep.  _

Castiel walked downstairs and began calling a cab on an old fashioned dial rotary phone in the kitchen. He began giving the driver the address when he hear the phone click. He jumped to see Hershal fully dressed and wide awake behind him. 

“Master Balthazar, would never hear of you taking a  _ taxi  _ home,” he said the word with such disdain, “I’ll drive you home.” 

“Hershal....I…” Castiel started. 

“I insist.” 

That was that, and Hershal drove Castiel home just as the sun was rising. It had never seemed so painfully bright before. He was thankful that his parents were still asleep as he crept upstairs and opened the door to his room. 

Dean was laying in his bed, on top of the covers, strong arms wrapped around Castiel’s pillow, where he was gently snoring like he hadn’t gotten a wink of good sleep in the last few days. He looked almost as though he hadn’t intentionally fallen asleep, but that waiting had become too much, and he’d just gradually slipped away.

Even with all the hurt and sadness, Castiel wanted nothing more than to be that pillow. He hated himself for that, that Dean still held such power over him. Too much...too much power...too much of his heart. He shoved Dean by the shoulder not at all gently. 

“Dean,” he surprised even himself at how harsh his voice sounded. 

Dean’s eyes fluttered open, and wide, and he looked taken aback, “Cas, are you alright? Where were you?” Dean pulled him down into his arms without a second thought. He couldn’t really place the bad feeling he’d had, and wondered how long he’d been asleep.

A sickening guilty feeling made his stomach cold as he sank into Dean’s embrace. He broke again. “No,” he choked, “I’m not alright.” His tears poured from his eyes again. 

“Hey,” Dean soothed, pushing Cas back to arm-distance to examine him again, as he rubbed his hands up and down his arms, before cradling him, “What happened, baby? You can tell me. What is it?”

“I...it was you,” Castiel sobbed harder, “How could you do this to me? It hurts so bad Dean.” The pain in his chest was returning and he couldn’t breathe, sucking in big gasps of air. 

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Hey, breathe, c’mon sweetheart, I...I’m really sorry about your birthday, okay? I...I’m gonna make it up to you. I swear. You don’t have to cry, I’m here now.”

That was the problem. Dean was here. Castiel hadn’t been prepared for that. Not yet.  _ Fuck. Why did he have to be here?  _ He caught his breath and shoved Dean away again. 

“NO! You don’t get to just….,” he took a deep breath, realizing how little sense he was making, “I know, Dean. I know there’s someone else.” 

“What?” Dean asked, dumbly, staring blankly at Castiel again. That explained the box on the floor, the tearstained clothes, the anger. What Dean wasn’t comprehending is where the hell this conclusion had come from. How could Castiel possibly think that there was anyone else that could fill his world with so much joy and happiness?

“I know!” he shouted, not caring who heard, his voice cracking in the process, “I went over to your house...why was I so stupid? I can’t believe you fucked him! Where we made love, beautiful, beautiful love! You fucking bastard!” 

Dean’s voice remained calm, although it did crack, more out of confusion than anything. He was used to accusations, and being screamed at by John...but never from Castiel. His heart was racing, “Cas...what the hell are you talking about?”

“His clothes, the letter, the...condom,” he winced, “I saw everything Dean. Why couldn’t you just tell me? Why wasn’t I enough for you? Did I do something wrong? Was I just not good enough?” 

“The fuck are you talking about?” Dean repeated, his head spinning, clearly baffled. Was he dreaming? He had to be. None of it made any damn sense at all, and yet it was still like a nightmare playing out in his head. He’d just been at home. There hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary. “I know it might be hard for you to...but I need you to calm down,” Dean said, his body shaking, starting to lose his own nerve, “Okay, cause, I’m really not understanding what you’re saying, Cas. So I need you to explain to me from the beginning exactly what it is that you think I did so that we can talk it out. There’s obviously been some sort of...huge misunderstanding somewhere.”

“I won’t calm down,” he spat, feeling almost like a child having a tantrum, “I can’t. It’s your fault I’m like this. You! You cheated on me! I went over to your house, I found all his clothes on the floor, I found his love letter to you, and I found your used condom in the bed...or maybe it was  _ his  _ condom. You know, I really don’t want to know. I just...I need to know who he is. Does he go to school with us? Is he that college guy you used to play football with? Casey or Pasey or whatever his name was. Who is it, Dean? Tell me.” 

“You think I’m cheating on you with Casey!?” Dean exclaimed, squeaking a bit. Casey hadn’t even been a serious thing. Casey had been him coming to terms with his sexuality...and sure, he still talked to Casey on the phone sometimes...he’d even consider him a friend...but there was nothing romantic between the two of them. Even when there had been sex between them, it had been just that. And that was definitely before Castiel. “Wait...you think I’m cheating on you at all?” He shook his head, trying to clear it of the buzzing and confusion. “Okay, let’s start at the beginning...you went to my house, and you found a bunch of shit in my room?”

Castiel glared at him.

Okay, well, that explained why the project was still there. “First of all, I only went home long enough to grab a bagful of shit, let Sam know you were coming by, and then I went with my dad to Yankton on a ghost hunt. Shit, Cas, you were there when he was banging on the door. I came home this morning at the ass crack of dawn, grabbed my shit and now I’m here. There wasn’t anything in my room except our history project.” Dean cringed, “Maybe Sam and Amber got a little adventurous.” He really, really didn’t need that mental image. “Regardless, whatever you saw wasn’t there when I got back.” Suddenly, he wasn’t even sure why he was defending himself...why he should have to after all they’d been through. “How could you even think I’d cheat on you? Sweetheart.  Look at me. You know me better than that. You know us. You know I’d do anything for you.”

All their memories flashed through Castiel’s mind and his heart crunched.  _ Us. Maybe he’s right. Maybe he doesn’t know anything. He does seem pretty confused. But how would that stuff have gotten there if it weren’t for him? It wasn’t Sam’s. I’m not crazy. I saw what I saw.  I don’t even know what to say to him right now.  _ Tears poured down his face, wanting to trust in Dean’s words so much. 

Dean’s thumbs wiping Castiel’s tears away were much rougher than Balthazar’s had been the night before, but just as genuine. 

“Cas...baby, sunshine…”

Castiel stopped him right there, “Sunshine? SUNSHINE? You say that to all the guys don’t you? Oh God...are there more? More than just this other guy?  _ He  _ called himself ‘your sunshine’ in that fucking letter he wrote. I don’t ever want to hear you call me sunshine ever again!”

“Who the hell is  _ he _ , Cas? I don’t know what you’re talking about! You’re my only sunshine. You’re my entire life. I want to understand what’s going on in your head right now but I’m honestly fucking clueless here. There  _ is  _ no one else. There’s never  _ been  _ anyone else. I love you.” He reached for Cas’ hand, noticing that his own shaking had gotten worse, “Baby...I love you.”

“You can’t,” Castiel sobbed, pushing Dean’s hand away, “You can’t love me.” 

“Baby, of course I…”

“I slept with Balthazar,” Castiel choked, his voice hoarse, as the words just slipped out. 

Dean’s hands fell limp from where they were trying to grab onto Castiel’s, his blood running cold as ice. What was this feeling- like his head was empty and full at the same time, and that he wanted to scream and throw something, and maybe vomit, or even cry. No. Castiel would never do that to him. His sunshine was sweet, and kind, and caring, almost to a fault. And he’d been so innocent. “...you…” Dean choked, unable to get another word out.

Dean looked like a wounded puppy and Castiel’s heart shattered.  _ What have I done?  _

“Dean, I found all that stuff and I was a wreck...I almost did wreck, literally, I couldn’t believe that you’d cheated on me and then I went over to Balthazar’s and it just happened. I...I’m sorry, Dean.” 

Two tears pooled in Dean’s green eyes, and fell without warning, “I don’t know what to think anymore,” he said, getting up off the bed and standing with his back facing Cas. “There wasn’t anything at my house, Castiel,” the full name came out icily, “And I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about...so what am I supposed to make of this?” He wheeled around again, his face blotchy, like he was holding back more tears, “Cause from where I’m standing it just sounds like an excuse because you cheated on me and felt guilty.”

_ I do...I never knew I could feel this guilty, Dean. No. This is his fault. He started it.  _

“You cheated first!” he spat back, his own tears drying as the anger replaced the hurt. 

“I didn’t cheat on you! How could I ever fucking do that to you?” Dean sounded out of breath, he felt his heart pounding in his chest, “How could I...how could you...how could you?” More tears began to fall uncontrollably as the room faded briefly.

“I know what I saw Dean! I didn’t just imagine it! You were cheating on me! You’re just lying! Was that it? Was it all a lie to you? Was I just some joke? Did you ever really love me? Or were those all just beautiful words to get me to sleep with you?”

Dean was at a loss. It was everything he could do to keep his legs from giving out beneath him. They felt like gelatin. He felt like his world was ending. It wasn’t the apocalypse that he had anticipated, full of demons, and fire, and gunshots. It was worse. It was losing the one thing that made  _ any _ of that worth it. 

“Five months…” he choked out, “And you have the nerve to tell me that it was all just an act? That I just wanted in your fucking pants? Are you fucking kidding me, Cas? How could you say those things to me? You sound like every other ignorant bastard at that damn school. Dean Winchester, good for getting into trouble, and good for a fuck. Is that really what you think of me?” his voice was rising now, “I let you in. I fucking let you into this goddamn mess, and you told me it was going to be okay. That we had a future. That I wasn’t some sort of fucking freak. You made me think that I could be happy. And then you waited until I left and slept with Balthazar!? Stop saying these things because you want to feel better about what  _ you _ did! You’re going to remember this, Cas. You’re gonna remember that you’re the one who ruined us.” Tears were streaming down both of his cheeks now, his voice breaking after every few words, “Fuck you for this, you selfish bastard. I gave you everything I had, and it still wasn’t good enough. Needed to have Balthazar with his fancy car and his fancy house and all that fucking money? I loved you more than I could ever love anything- let alone myself- and this is the thanks that I get? You cheated on me- you told me what I wanted to hear. You lied to me. Everything you’ve ever said to me has been a lie. And even if…” he hyperventilated, trying desperately to slow his heart down, to catch his breath, “Even if you thought I’d cheated- you didn’t have the fucking balls to even come to me before letting that fucking bastard lay his goddamn hands on you? This is on you- not me!”

Castiel was thrown off for a moment.  _ Shit, he’s right. How could I even think that it was all an act? How could I say those things to him. What if he never really cheated on me at all….and I’m the one who’s destroyed us? No. It’s a trick. He did cheat.  _ The anger welled back up and with it Castiel clenched his fists and found his fire once more. 

“Get out, Dean. Take your stuff and your stupid leather jacket and leave. Just go.” 

“No, I’m not leaving you,” Dean said adamantly.

“No,” Castiel countered, “I’m leaving you.” 

The words hit Dean like a ton of bricks dropped right on his heart. He collapsed, sinking to his knees. “No…” he said, in disbelief, “You don’t mean it. I...I can forget it...I can...Balthazar doesn’t matter...we can...we can...just…”

It pained Castiel to see Dean so...broken. And even with his anger he couldn’t find it in him to wish this upon him.  _ Maybe he’s right. He cheated, I cheated. We’re even now. Maybe we can go back to the way things used to be? No. He’s broken my trust. If I go back, I’ll always wonder if there’s someone else.  _

“I can’t Dean,” he said through tears, “I can’t forget it. It’s all I see when I close my eyes.” 

“Do you love him?” Dean pleaded, eyes brimming with tears, his voice cracking as he looked up at Castiel from the floor, from a defeated position on his knees, begging for things to be all right- begging it all just to be a nightmare.

“I...I’ve always loved him as a friend,” he said honestly, “As far as more than that goes...I don’t know. Right now my heart’s still in love with you, and it hurts more than anything I’ve ever felt in my life.” 

“God...dammit, Cas…” Dean croaked from the floor, tears flooding his features, forming small puddles on his t-shirt now, “Did you even think? Did you even...why…?” He grabbed onto one of Castiel’s pants legs, clinging to any part of him he could hold onto. 

“Why what, Dean?” Castiel cried more, unable to push him away. 

“Why are you doing this to us? Why? We were happy. We’re happy, Cas.” His head hit the side of Castiel’s legs, reeling with their memories. Reeling with the thought of having a future that he was so sure of...being ripped away from him. “If we’re moving too fast, I can take it slow. I’ll make up your birthday, Cas. I’ll forget about Balthazar. This...isn’t you. I...I need you, Cas. “

Castiel slipped the ring  off of his finger. “You can’t have love without loyalty.” He put the ring into Dean’s open palm and closed his fingers around it. 

“No...I...I suppose you can’t.” Dean’s features drained of color, and though tears were still falling, they were silent as he picked himself up shakily off the ground, feeling angry...but more than that, broken. He opened his palm, staring at the ring in his hand before shoving it back into Castiel’s, holding his palm closed around it. “Keep it. You can keep my heart, too. Not as though I’ll be needing it.” His legs were lead as he trudged towards the window, “And just since you seem to have forgotten- I love you, Castiel. I’ll be waiting when you remember that and stop losing your damn mind.” 

The box remained on the floor, though Dean kicked it as he walked past it, just lightly, “They’re gifts, you keep those.”

He slipped out the window without another word. He knew how to be strong to the outside world, even as his own collapsed into nothing in his hands.

 

_...To be continued... _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Sexual Themes not dealing with the main couple (rebound), Fighting/Blame/Unhealthy Aspects of the Relationship.
> 
> Song List for this Chapter:
> 
> Can't Fight this Feeling- REO Speedwagon  
> Radar Love-Golden Earring
> 
> **Notes from the Author**  
> Hugs to you all. This was a hard chapter to write. I encourage you to read the tags, and know that things always work out- and light can always be found, even in the darkness. Also, please don't give up on the story. It'll be worth it, I promise. I owe it to myself as a writer to explore the entire story, through the good and bad.  
> Thank you for your continued love and support. Wishing you all the best, as always. <3


	15. Blue Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rash decisions are made that take our lovebirds further apart than ever. Is there hope of redemption when everything's falling apart beneath their fingers?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that this is a record, guys- like half a month between chapters. Yay!  
> Thank you guys. I know that right now the story's a little heartbreaking, and hard to read, but I promise if you stay with me, we'll get through this together.  
> As such, and as always, I'd love to hear anything you notice, or any theories as we're at a point where anything can happen. Your comments are my sunshine (no pun intended...or was there)?  
> As for the next chapter, I would expect the end of August at latest? Gishwhes is coming up, and I'll be taking a good bit of my time in the upcoming month to focus on that, but I'm going to do my best to get you another chapter out in a timely manner.  
> So, without further ado. Thank you for your continued love and support, I have the best readers. <3  
> ~Dean

* * *

* * *

 

_April 11, 1999_

 

As soon as Dean left, Castiel collapsed to his knees in tears.

_He’s right. I cheated on him. I ruined everything. It’s all my fault._

Castiel quickly slipped the ring on his finger, as if by magic it would bring Dean back. He crawled to the desk, where he’d hidden a few keepsakes too precious to toss into the box. He dug around and found the mixtape that Dean had made him for Christmas. He popped it into the stereo and pulled the leather jacket on before curling back in bed. He began listening to Dean’s voice singing “Crazy” to him before rewinding and listening to it again and again and again.

His body was shaking violently, his fingers clinging to the leather. _I’ve ruined Balthazar and I too. Our friendship is over. I_ used _him to get back at Dean. How could I do that to him? Who am I anymore? What’s wrong with me? Everything I touch breaks._

The door swung open, and Mrs. Novak held one of the cordless phones in her hand. Her hair was still up in rollers, and she was wrapped in a light green robe, nightdress down to her ankles, and fuzzy slippers, “Castiel,” she started, “Balthazar has been ringing since 6:30 this…” she stopped, mid-rant. “Oh, sweetheart.” She sat on the bedside, “I want to hear everything...let's get you dressed, we’ll talk about it over ice cream.”

“I don’t want ice cream, Mom,” he snapped, not meaning to, “I’m not five anymore.” He cleared his throat before adding a bit more gently, “I’m sorry Mom. I’m just….can we talk about this later?”

“No,” she said, without missing a beat, “Get dressed. I’m not going to let you mope in your room. End of discussion, Castiel.”

“But Mom…” he said, pitifully, more tears falling, “I can’t go out there. Not like this.”

“Then, you should dry your tears, sweetheart. I don’t think the drive-thru lady is going to judge you either way.” She wrapped an arm around him, “I know it seems a little harsh, but, staying in your room isn’t going to do anything but make you think about whatever it is more.”

Thinking of how his Mom would take the news made things even worse. He tried to be gently, putting it in a way she could understand. “Can I talk this one out with Dad, first? It’s…kind of a guy problem.”

She frowned. She was the type of mother that wanted to be the support for her child, the kind that took it a little too personally when she wasn’t what he needed. “Of course sweetheart,” she said, patting his knee, “I’ll get him. Just...hang in there, alright. And, whatever it is, you can always talk to me. Even about guy stuff. I am married to one, you know.” She stood up from the bed, kissing the top of Castiel’s head.

“I know, Mom. I love you,” As she went to the doorway he added, “And Mom? If Balthazar calls again….just tell him...I’ll see him at school tomorrow, okay?”

She nodded again, “I love you, too, Castiel, more than the world.” She closed the door behind her.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean drove until he had a direction to drive. He drove four hours, turning it into three-in-a-half-hour flat drive. Selby, South Dakota was the same as it had been when Dean had last been there.

He walked down the train tracks, he stopped in the one gas station on the little highway to get a coke, and then he walked some more. He walked around the entirety of the little town, finding the Hilltop Motel still in the same state of decay it had been in when he and Sam and John, and Amber and Alicia had called it home during their duration.

He saw girls that were about his age at the One-Stop shop, and wondered if maybe he should recognize them. He never could tell if the giggling was recognition, or just admiration- and to be honest, he didn’t care.

He picked the loose spikes out of the railroad, even found a few smashed pennies left behind.

The trailer park was disheveled, and mostly abandoned. The trailer that used to be Cameron’s had grafitti and boards on it, and it was falling apart, condemned by the little town, who may or may not get around to it. Dean briefly wondered what happened to the first boy he’d ever said ‘I love you’ to...not that he’d come here looking for Cameron at all.

No, he’d come here as a masochist...to relive the same pain he was feeling now...but, he felt nothing for the town...just some old memories that had meant nothing the second he’d fallen head over heels for Castiel’s blue eyes.

Dean stayed in Selby, walking the railroad, swinging in the little park, and watching people until the sun was setting, and the weather starting to chill. Then, he climbed back in his car, and drove back to Sioux Falls.

None of it made a difference, he doubted it ever would. He wasted nearly two tanks of gas on the trip, with nothing to show for it. His heart was still shattered in his chest, his hands still shook against the wheel, and no matter what song he played- they all reminded him of Castiel, and that future that everyone seemed to think he had.

By the time he pulled into the driveway home, it was late at night, and he’d been crying since he rolled back into town. He saw Bobby’s salvage yard first, with the shop...and he could only think about that fucking jar under his bed full of sweaty, hard-earned money for a non-existent future. He saw the diner next, remembering their first date and the several after that. The school that Sam would tell him to face, the park that he and Castiel swung at, where everything had begun.

Dean opened the door to the Impala, closing it quickly, and beelining not for his own trailer, but for the little house across the street that belonged to the O’Connors.

He climbed in Amber’s window easily enough, it was only on the first floor. He hadn’t even been thinking of Sam being over or what they might be doing. Luckily, his little brother was nowhere to be found, and Amber was fast asleep, sprawled out on her bed. Dean crawled in with her, resting his head on her chest, and running his fingers gently into her hair, curling them there, desperate to hold onto something. His tears soaked through her Pink Floyd T-Shirt nearly instantly, and though he tried to stifle his sobs, they escaped regardless.

“Sam,” she mumbled sleepily, before running fingers through Dean’s much shorter hair, “Dean? What are you doing here? What’s happened? Is Sam alright?”

Dean nodded in her chest, clinging a little tighter. Amber had always been his best friend, as long as he could remember. And while he didn’t particularly want to get into detail, relive it, or talk about it...he needed comfort, and had the feeling that he wouldn’t find it in his loved one’s arms, beneath their stars. All of their fallen stars, and fallen dreams. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he managed, muffled from her shirt.

“Alright,” she agreed, continuing to run fingers through his hair, “As long as no one’s dead. You know I’m here for you,” she paused, “Was it Castiel?”

Dean hugged her tightly, sobbing again, “Gone…”

“Wait? What do you mean gone?” she nearly demanded, her hand stopping, still tangled in Dean’s locks.

“He thinks I cheated on him,” Dean blurted, still muffled in Amber, “He slept with Balthazar and left me. I don’t know what he was talking about. I wouldn’t do that..Amber, you know I wouldn’t.”

“Fuck yeah I know you wouldn’t!” she replied, rubbing Dean’s back, “I’m so sorry, Dean. He’s out of his damn mind. He has to be. He actually cheated on you? With Balthazar Roche?”

“I was trying so hard, Amber. I’m so fucking stupid. I’m so fucking stupid for thinking that it was gonna work.”

“Shh,” she soothed, “You weren’t stupid. Cas is stupid for ever thinking you could do something like that him. Why the fuck would he think that?”

“I dunno...he wasn’t making any sense,” Dean murmured before coming up for air, his face red and blotchy and streaked with tears, “He said something about someone’s clothes in my room and a used condom, and a love letter. I don’t know if he’s losing his shit, or what he’s talking about...unless you and Sam…”

“Eww….in your room?” Amber said, disgusted, “No. Of course not. Sam’s been at my house most of the weekend. He went home tonight because it’s a school night.”

Dean looked at the bed he was laying in, grimacing, “That’s fucking gross,” he announced, before curling back into Amber’s arms.

“It’s not gross. It’s sexy,” she replied a bit defensively, “So...do you think he’s _really_ gone? Cas? I mean you two love each other, like, sickening amounts. It sounds like it was all just some weird misunderstanding.”

“I’m not Balthazar. What the fuck could I even give him?” _Other than all the love in my heart. He’s gone. He’s gone and he’s probably already sleeping in Balthazar’s arms wondering why he wasted so much time with me._ He couldn’t help but picture Castiel looking at Balthazar with those blue eyes...hands on him, in his perfect hair, running over his perfectly tailored vest in his perfect mansion.

“So what if you’re not a Roche? Cas doesn’t seem the material type. And he’s always been head over heels for you.”  

“Cas didn’t seem like a lot of things…”

“Like a two-faced backstabbing cheater?”

“You can’t talk about my boyfriend like…” The word ‘boyfriend’ sank in, and Dean started spontaneously crying again, biting down on his bottom lip, trying to stop from looking so pathetic.

“Your right. I’m sorry,” she soothed, cradling him, “I shouldn’t have said that. You don’t need that right now.”

“I...need _him_ ,” Dean said, his fingers clutching tighter to Amber, flexing, “Need him so much.” _In my arms, under the stars, I need his voice, and his legs tangled in mine in the morning. The spot of drool and his messy hair when he wakes up. Need him to tell me he loves me. Need to hear him talk about stupid school projects..._

“I know you do, I know you do,” she whispered, running fingers through his hair, “Go to sleep, Dean...it’ll be better in the morning. Somehow, it always is. I’ve got you, Dean. I’ve got you.”

Sleep didn’t come easily for Dean, who laid in Amber’s arms with tears streaming down his cheeks. It would have been better, he thought, if he had just told John _no_ about the hunt, and faced that repercussion. Anything would be better than this. Everything they said about life changing in the blink of an eye was true, and somehow every time he began to place the blame on Castiel for what he’d done...he kept coming back to himself. He could’ve done better. He could’ve tried harder.

It was ridiculous to tell himself any of those things, because they weren’t true. He did his best, became his best, through Cas. And there was nothing he could’ve changed that would have given Castiel any more of him than he already had. In the end, it just hadn’t been enough.

The thoughts didn’t fade when everything finally went dark. Castiel was waiting for him there, beautiful, and happy, like the sunshine had never gone and made way for rain.

Sam climbed in through Amber’s window about an hour later, near midnight. Amber was still awake, waiting on him. They’d known each other so long their conversation was nearly wordless.

Sam threw up his arms and gestured to Dean, _The hell is he doing here?_

He shot her a jealous look.

She glared right back, _Really Sam? You think I’m fucking your brother? Come on…._

He gestured to Dean again, _Well what the hell is he doing here?_

“Cas broke up with him, alright?” she finally whispered, “It took me forever just to get him to sleep.”

“Why didn’t he come to me?” Sam said, almost hostilely.

“I don’t know Sam, because he needed a shoulder to cry on, literally, and he’d never do that to his little brother. You know how protective he is with you.”

“Wait, what? Cas broke up with him? What the fuck?”

“He thinks Dean cheated on him. He went and slept with Balthazar. I haven’t seen Dean like this since Selby...maybe not even then. It’s gonna take awhile.” She looked at Dean, his tearstained face resting against her, “Maybe a long while.”

  


* * *

 

 

_April 12, 1999_

 

Castiel drove himself to school for the first time ever. It took a couple minutes to work up the courage to get out of the bright yellow bug and face not only the harsh light of day, but….everyone. He couldn’t face Dean or Balthazar, let alone the rest of the school.

He opened the car door and walked into the school. He made it to his locker just fine, before he saw Balthazar and quickly slammed it shut, walking the other way down the hallway.

_Oh God, I can’t even look him in the eye. He probably hates me now._

“Cassie, wait,” Balthazar said, cool fingers catching Castiel’s wrist, “Don’t do this. You’ve been avoiding my calls all weekend. Your mum said you needed space. You were supposed to call and tell me what happened, I was worried sick.”

“I can’t Balthazar. I just can’t,” Castiel replied, his voice near to tears, “I have classes soon.”

“Hey,” Balthazar persisted, “Look at me,” Balthazar turned him around, pulling him into the emptiness of one of the art classrooms, wiping his tears away. “I am here for you. I’m not going anywhere, so don’t even think about pushing me away. If you don’t want to talk about Dean, fine, I get that. You don’t want to…” he looked away, “If you don’t want that either, then, I’ll continue to be your friend, Cassie, and we’ll still get through it together. One way or another...but I am not letting you just walk away and be alone.”

“I used you, Balthazar….to get back at him. What’s right about that? I can’t even look at you right now. I’m a horrible person. I ruined us.”

“I don’t know that this is the time to talk about this, Cassie. But, you’re not a horrible person. I...I knew what we were doing, and what may or may not come of that. Maybe that makes me a bad person as well, and if so, I’m sorry. But you didn’t ruin us. You’re still my favorite person in the entire world.”

“I left him. He was so devastated. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. And I’m sorry, Balthazar. I’m sorry for using you. You mean so much to me as a friend. I don’t know if it could lead into more. But I’d like to try maybe...after some time.”

Balthazar tried to hide a small smile, but failed, before straightening himself, “I understand, Cassie. It’s not an easy time. But you don’t have to get through it alone. I...I’ll be there through the hard stuff, too. I’m not angry with anyone but myself. Like I mentioned, I had rather hoped that I could make the moment a little more special if ever it were to happen. Perhaps next time, if you decide that it’s what you want. Until then, we’ll just, be friends, Cassie. I just want to be there for you in the way you need me, okay?” He looked at his watch, “First bell will go off in about 42 seconds, we should probably get going, okay? But, promise you’ll stop avoiding me. We’ll do it your way, just don’t shut me out.”

Castiel wrapped his arms tight around Balthazar. “You know me so well, sometimes it feels like you’ve known me forever. I’m glad we’re not ruined. Maybe one day we’ll be more than friends, and you can take me dancing. Until then, I’m glad we’re still friends.”

He kissed Balthazar’s cheek.

“Well, I’ve known you since you were six. That’s basically forever, love.” The first bell rang, “Go on, study hall for you. AP Physics for me. See you in Trig later.” Balthazar looked at him, unsure of what move to make, and settled for just walking away, not wanting to push anything more.

Dean didn’t make it to study hall, which was somewhat of a relief, if not a worry for Castiel, who couldn’t help but wonder if he was okay. But, he’d like to think he’d at least known Dean somewhat, and that ‘somewhat’ included knowing that he had a tendency to run.

He had been dreading the class that he and Dean had weaseled together. They had two classes together this semester, which had involved some effort, but they’d made it work, and now, Castiel just wished that he’d focused on school instead of being around his now ex-boyfriend as much as possible. And, to top it off, Dean still had their damn history project that was due today. He groaned. He already had a 92 in that class...he couldn’t afford to let it slip to an 89.

He tried to re-read _Chamber of Secrets_ so that when the dust settled, he and Balthazar could begin _Prizoner of Azkaban_ together, but found himself distracted all together, missing the sound of classic rock in his ears, while sneaking gentle brushes of fingertips.

When the bell released them out of the cafeteria study hall, Castiel was surprised to see Sam standing outside the room, arms crossed. Of course, the middle school was just going to start soon, and the two buildings were connected. Still, it was strange to see the younger Winchester brother in the high school, even though Sam would be starting next year.

“Hey Sam, have you seen Dean…” Castiel started, before Sam pushed him up against the locker.

“You don’t get to say his name, you piece of shit. You completely destroyed my brother. I ought to kick your ass right here. You deserve no less, you lying bastard.”

Castiel braced himself, he knew that as a hunter, and despite his height, Sam could easily take him. _Maybe he’s right. I do deserve this._ They’d already drawn a small crowd around them, with chants of ‘fight.’

“That’s enough, Sam.” The crowd wheeled to face Dean Winchester. It wasn’t the same Dean Winchester that started here. He wore a long sleeved green shirt that matched his eyes, one that Castiel had chosen for him on a rare trip to Goodwill, the amulet he always wore peaking over the top. He still wore jeans, and boots, but gone was the leather jacket...on Castiel’s chair to be precise. His hair was longer than it used to be, brushed back but nearly touching his eyebrow. He was still built though, could easily take anyone who threatened him.

He plucked his little brother away from Castiel like he was nothing. “Go to class.”

“But, Dean.”

“I said go.”

Sam shot one last glare at Castiel before walking off.

Castiel didn’t get a word out before Dean had turned his back and was walking away. Castiel wasn’t sure which part stung worse...that, or that the entire school was whispering, as though their secret hadn’t been very secret at all.

Castiel bit down on his pride and went after Dean anyways, calling after him,

“Dean wait! Please?”

“Aww, look at the little faggot chase after his boyfriend,” Kevin said, stepping in front of Castiel, barring his way to Dean who was already halfway down the hall, “Did you two have a fight? Aww,” Kevin mock-pouted.

It was hard to tell who would kick his ass more, Sam or Kevin, but he wasn’t really sure he cared. Part of him felt like he deserved this. He was much more capable, since he’d met Dean. He threw his hardback copy of _Chamber of Secrets_ directly in Kevin’s face, hitting him square in the nose.

“Fuck off, Kevin.” he said as he ran past him.

“Augh!” Kevin hissed, holding his nose as blood gushed from it, an old battle wound that Dean had inflicted, “Fuck you, Novak! I’m gonna fuck you up for this!”

“Mr. Green!” hissed one of the teachers, Mrs. Maybrook, a stern, elder ‘ruler-in-hand’ type lady who taught Calculus, “Principal’s office, now.”

The door to Advanced Culinary: Baking and Pastry closed behind Dean before Castiel could close the distance.

“Fuck,” Castiel hissed. Now, not only could he not talk to Dean but he was late for English. He seriously contemplated on skipping the rest of the day and crawling back in bed to pretend this day never happened, but somehow the stern look on his mother’s face made him think better of it. He walked off to English instead, pissed to realize that he also needed a new _Harry Potter_ book thanks to fucking Kevin.

The next couple of classes weren’t entirely better. Castiel found French incredibly boring, and he’d ran to try and catch up with Dean before their shared history class; but, Dean wasn’t there either. He was relieved to find that Dean had at least dropped off their project, but that feeling of ease quickly subsided with realization that Dean was avoiding him.

It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

  


* * *

 

 

By lunchtime, Dean already knew he’d be skipping out early. Didn’t know why he’d let Sam and Amber talk him into coming to school in the first place. He couldn’t focus, and didn’t care about any of it anymore. That future was gone, and there was no point in pretending it wasn’t.

He skipped history, electing instead to take a walk, try to cool his head, and didn’t come back until a minute or so after classes had let out for lunch. He saw people walking past him, and felt like again, he wasn’t a part of them...but like somehow that mattered, whereas before the only thing that had mattered was he and Castiel, and their own little world.

“...Dean.”

Dean’s insides boiled, even before he could process who the English accent was coming from. He wheeled around in time to see Balthazar walking away, in his neat vest, and crisp dress shirt. With confidence, and arrogance. Probably getting ready to go have lunch with Castiel.

No. He didn’t get to be alright. Not after…

He was against a locker before Dean realized he’d even made a move. His rough, calloused hands held Balthazar by the shirt.

“Dean, you don’t want to do this,” Balthazar said, his voice shaking a little in fear, “Just let it go. He...he made his choice…”

“I’ve seen the way you look at him. Don’t tell me you didn’t have a hand in that choice. I know where you stand, bastard.”

“...what are you going to do, Dean? Hit me?” Balthazar tried to rationalize with Dean, even as the smaller boy shrank against a locker, making himself small in a way uncharacteristic of a Roche, “You could hit me until I bleed. It won’t change anything, it won’t make anything better between you two.”

“It might make me feel better,” Dean snarled. All he could see was this pompous, arrogant fucking bastard pushing his sunshine against a wall, lips against his, his arms around Castiel. He saw him laying Castiel down on some feather bed, promising him the world as he unbuttoned Castiel’s pants, as he ruined Dean’s life forever. His fist connected with Balthazar’s face once, and then a second time.

Balthazar whimpered, collapsing after just a few hits, trying to roll away, but Dean was on top of him. Blood stained his knuckles almost too quickly- Balthazar obviously had never been hit in his life. Blood wasn’t enough for the damage the fucker had caused.

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel sat in the cafeteria, pushing around green beans with his plastic fork, unable to force a bite down his throat, when he started watching everyone flock out of the cafeteria.

“Wh...what’s going on?” he asked Shawn, a kid from his own culinary course.

“There’s a fight!” he exclaimed, before rushing off to join the crowd, emptying the cafeteria with him.

Castiel didn’t hesitate. Somehow he knew it would come to this. He was small enough to push past the crowd. He gasped at the streak of blood across the floor. There were less cheers and more so a silent shock. Balthazar was on the ground before Dean, a bloody mess, and he wasn’t moving. Again, Castiel didn’t hesitate. He pulled Dean by the arm. “DEAN! THAT’S ENOUGH!”

Dean turned around only for a second. His eyes were cold, almost like he was on a hunt...but, at the same time, his cheeks were streaked with tears. It was obvious to the entirety of the crowd that this was a personal fight. And if it hadn’t been obvious before, it was when Dean growled, “Back off, Cas!” He paused before adding, “What, you don’t want him anymore without his perfect fucking face? I’m done!” He got up off the ground, his shirt stained with several spots of blood of varying sizes, the knees of his jeans not in an entirely better state, “I’m fucking done. You can fucking have him.” He gave Balthazar a hard kick, and the crowd gasped.

Suddenly, the gym teacher and Dean’s coach, Mr. Parsons, burst through the crowd. “Woah,” he stood in awe, “Everyone, back away.” He blew his whistle sharply twice. The crowd didn’t move. “OUT! AND SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE. WINCHESTER, NOW! Move it.”

“Shouldn’t we call the police?” One kid piped up.

“Winchester’s gonna get arrested,” another kid mused.

Even Kevin looked scared. Dean...Dean just looked dangerous.

Castiel didn’t know whether to go check on Balthazar or try to calm Dean down. The nurse showed up and started tending to Balthazar, so he chose the latter.

“Dean,” Castiel tried softly, “It didn’t have to be like this.”

“Move it, Winchester,” Mr. Parsons warned again. Dean didn’t heed the warnings, though the crowd was dispersing.

“It’s like this because of you. You did this, Cas,” Dean growled.

“Winchester!”

Dean got up, getting ready to follow Mr. Parsons to the principal’s office. Before he got that far, red and blue lights were reflecting into the hall from outside. Someone had obviously called the police early on.

It was Sheriff Mills with two other officers.

“Up against the wall, Winchester,” barked Officer Mendez, looking pleased to get a final say in their little dispute the last time Dean had gone downtown.

“Come on, Dean,”Jody agreed, trying not to stare too much at all the blood, “Sebastian Roche  is already on his way to the station.”

“Wait! He...he didn’t mean it,” Castiel tried to defend him, “Please, it was an accident.”

“Kid, this much blood is no accident,” Sheriff Mills said as Mendez pushed Dean against a locker, his cheek smushing against the cool metal, as the principal rushed down the hall.

“Winchester, you’ll be lucky if you don’t get expelled for this! I want you out of my school!” The man was blotchy and red-faced with anger, obviously in horror that of anyone Dean Winchester could have railed on, it was Balthazar.

“Easy, teach,” Sheriff Mills said, “We’ve got it from here.”

“Easy with the cuffs, Pornstache,” Dean growled, before Mendez pushed him harder into the locker.

“He just lost control. Honestly, it was an accident. Please, don’t expel him Mr. Canady.”

“Get to class, Mr. Novak.” Mr. Canady said, exasperatedly.

“I’m not your problem,” Dean grumbled.

“Jesus, kid...was this because of…” Jody looked between Castiel and Dean.

“It’s because of me. If anyone should get arrested it should be me,” Castiel offered.

“Not that easy,” Jody said, shaking her head, “Roche kid may have a concussion. If we’re being honest, Dean here will be lucky if he doesn’t press charges. C’mon, kiddo, I gotta take you down to the station.” She started walking Dean towards the door.

“Don’t come back to my school, Winchester,” Mr. Canady hollered, following them, “Not until they decide what to do with you.”

Dean jingled his handcuffs, “Don’t think you have to worry about that.”

_Goodbye, sunshine._

 

* * *

 

 

Mr. Roche was already waiting when they arrived in a pressed suit, a briefcase, and looking anxiously at his watch. He lowered his arm when the station door opened, assessing Dean. “So, this is the infamous Winchester boy? My name is Sebastian Roche. I’m Balthazar’s father.”

There wouldn’t have been mistaking him, even if he hadn’t introduced himself. The same blonde hair, the same gray eyes, the same manner of dress and English accent. Dean looked away.

“Looks like you did a number on my boy,” Mr. Roche continued.

“Your boy did a number on my boyfriend,” Dean said, still not facing Mr. Roche.

“Dean!” Jody hissed, looking shocked.

Mr. Roche held a hand up, silencing the sheriff, “I warned Balthazar that he’d have to deal with the repercussions of his rash actions. I suppose I didn’t expect them to be this severe, but then I suppose you do have a reputation to uphold.”  

“I didn’t hit him because of my _reputation_ ,” Dean said, full of fire, full of anger. “I hit him because he took everything from me…” Dean let it all blurt out, “He could have anything he wants. He has a future with or without Cas...so why’d he have to take mine?” Dean’s face was heating with a blush. He’d not said these things to most people close to him- so why was he laying his heart out in front of Balthazar’s father? Why did he feel like he had to justify his actions...and worse, why was he beginning to feel slightly bad about them?

“I know you love Cassie a great deal. You both do. Ultimately, it’s his decision to make. I trust next time you see my son, it won’t come to this?”

“It wasn’t Balthazar’s decision to make when he did what he did. It was cowardly. I wasn’t there, and Cas was vulnerable. So, now we’re even. For what it’s worth, I guess I didn’t mean it to go that far.” Dean looked away again.

“Next time, make sure it doesn’t. Release him.”

“Mr. Roche…” Officer Mendez started.

“I said, release him,” Mr. Roche glared at him.

Officer Mendez uncuffed Dean hesitantly as Mr. Roche continued, “I’m not pressing charges, because I understand it was a crime of passion. But if I ever see my son’s blood on you again...I won’t be so lenient.”

He turned, placing a large mobile phone to his ear, “Hershal, please meet me at the door.”

 

* * *

 

 

It took Balthazar a moment to realize where he was as the white walls of the hospital came into view. His head was reaming. It took him even longer to remember Dean tossing him around like a rag doll. He groaned, trying to sit up.

Castiel squeezed his hand, “Don’t, you’ll hurt yourself, lie back down.”

“Cassie?” Balthazar asked, feeling pressure around his head from where the nurses had wrapped it. He must look a sight, he thought.

“I’m here, Balthazar. I’m so sorry,” Castiel said hurriedly.

“Not your fault, love,” Balthazar managed, trying to remember if he’d gotten a hit in, or if he’d just let himself take it. Had Castiel been watching the whole time? “Are you my nurse?” he tried to joke, reaching for a cup of water that was bedside.

Castiel handed him the cup, holding the cup to his lips. “It is my fault. It’s my fault you’re here. I’m sorry.”  

“I’m pretty sure it was my fault,” Balthazar chuckled, “I think that was the entire point. What about you, love? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said, dismissively, ignoring the knots in his stomach, “What about you? What’s your pain level on a scale from one to ten?”

“Hmm...I’d say my ego got the worst of it. I’ll be fine, Cassie. I’m glad to see you here, though.”

“Of course. I knew you might want to wake up to a familiar face,” he smiled a little.

“Be honest...how bad is it?”

“I think you’d be in a lot of pain if it wasn’t for the morphine,” Castiel replied honestly.

“That’s a nice way of telling me I look like hell, isn’t it?” Balthazar asked, frowning, and running his hands over his normally smooth face, cringing to feel knots.

“You look...like hell,” Castiel said, unable to lie, “But still charming as ever, nonetheless.”

“Does that mean you owe me a pity date?” Balthazar asked almost pathetically.

“I won’t go out with you out of pity,” Castiel said with a smile, “But a date sounds nice, when you’re up for it.”

A genuine smile came over Balthazar as he forced himself to sit up, looking at Castiel, “Are you sure it’s not out of pity?” he teased, taking his hand.

Part of it was pity, but he’d never admit that to his best friend. A large part of his heart still belonged to Dean and it hurt. But, he did love Balthazar as a friend and it wasn’t hard to imagine changing that love into a romantic love. Besides, they’d already started down this path, what was the harm in seeing where it lead?

“I’m sure,” he smiled, kissing Balthazar’s hand.

“You wouldn’t mind being seen with me like this?” Balthazar squeezed tighter, unable to wipe the grin off of his face.

“Of course not,” Castiel smiled back.

Balthazar groaned, “This wasn’t at all how I pictured this, either.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed, pulling IV cords with him, not unlike Dean Winchester would have done. He held both of Castiel’s hands in his, “Cassie, I’d truly be honored if you would go dancing with me when they let me out of the hospital.”

“The honor’s all mine, Balthazar,” Castiel replied, blushing a bit.

“All right, Romeo, back in bed,” Smiled one of the Roche’s private nurses. Balthazar blushed faintly. Everything was perfect, at last. Just like he’d always dreamed it would be.

  


* * *

 

 

“C’mon Sandy, you deserve better than this bullshit. Pretty girl like you,” Dean hiccuped at the TV, more than a little drunk since he’d arrived back at the trailer a couple hours ago.

He was way too drunk to be ashamed that Grease was actually a VHS, rather than just the only thing that he could find on TV. He wasn’t even ashamed that he knew all the words. He took another swig of whiskey, kicking his shoes off finally in front of the TV.

  


* * *

 

 

Bobby’s truck sped to a halt, complete with Sam riding shotgun.

“I’m gonna shoot him,” Bobby was muttering to himself.

“I heard the janitor couldn’t get all the blood off the floor,” Sam continued, “The hell is…?” he asked, getting out of the car, and hearing music.

When Bobby threw the door open, the song _Hopelessly Devoted to You_ blared outside, full blast.

Inside was Dean, standing unsteadily on the couch in his socks, boxers, and undershirt, bloody clothes and shoes strewn with beer cans around the living room, almost like it was John at home. He was singing into one of the empty beer cans, off-key, and more than a little loudly, “BUT NOW- THERE’S NOWHERE TO HIDE, SINCE YOU PUSHED MY LOVE ASIDEEEE….I’M OUT OF MY HEAD...HOPELESSLY DEVOTEEEED TO YOUUUUUUUU….”

“What in the Sam Hill?” Bobby asked loudly, red-faced, grabbing the remote and shutting off the movie, “What in God’s name are you doing, son?”

“Yeah, Dean,” Sam chimed in, “I mean...chick flicks? Dude….and a musical at that….”

“School says you’re suspended the rest of the week,” Bobby informed him, “What the hell were you thinking? You were doing so well, with school and with work, and now, you’re lucky you’re not in jail.”

“Because it doesn’t matter, Bobby,” Dean explained, slapping a hand down on Bobby’s shoulder, as he stumbled off the couch, “Nothing matters.”

“Come on, Dean,” Bobby insisted, yanking Dean up by the undershirt, “Stop acting like your Dad. Go sleep it off, son.”

“I-” Dean stumbled, matter-of-factly, “I am _not_ like my dad, Bobby. Howcouldjou say that to me?”

“Because that’s how you’re acting, Dean, like a damn fool. Like your dad. Now go on and sleep it off alright? I know it’s rough, but you’ll find someone else. You just need some time.”

Dean’s blood ran cold. The words ‘someone else’ was like his heartbeat, in his ears. He collapsed down to his knees, dry-sobbing, “I don’t want someone else…”

“I know, son, I know,” Bobby said, gently, “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

Bobby put an arm around Dean and helped him up and to his room. He helped lay him lay down in bed.

Dean looked up at his empty ceiling, and the fan absently spinning. So this was what it felt like to be entirely dead on the inside, with not even a single star to light the darkness.

“...don’t leave me alone.”

  


* * *

 

 

_April 17, 1999_

 

Balthazar didn’t wait long to make good on his date with Castiel. He arrived in his Hummer, with Hershal driving, completely dressed to perfection in a suit to match his vest, his hair combed back- devilishly handsome, even with the remnants of a black eye.

Castiel was glad his parents had bought his tux for prom, because it was all he had that could even compare, and he met Balthazar at the car.

They drove to Sioux Falls Regional Airport, and boarded a private airplane that felt more like a luxury lounge than a flying vehicle. Balthazar assured him they’d be back well before Mrs. Novak would start to worry, and Castiel wondered if he was trying to show him that he had a rebellious streak, too.

They flew in to New York City on Saturday, in the late afternoon. “Look, Cassie,” Balthazar had smiled, opening the window, “It’s nothing like Sioux Falls, is it?”

It really wasn’t. It was huge, and bright, and crowded. The few times Castiel had flown had been to visit his grandparents, and even in Florida, it was never this crowded.

They didn’t have to worry about the crowds, though. He wasn’t a tourist. He was here with Balthazar Roche, whose name was known even in these parts, because it was one of his father’s main operations. Even on the way to their reservation, Castiel couldn’t help but notice Balthazar’s dad’s face on billboards, or Roche banking logos.

They’d opted for a limousine, which took them to a restaurant with candlelight, covered in vine, with people walking in wearing suits, and cocktail dresses, or evening dresses.

Castiel felt butterflies in his stomach. He’d never been to a place this fancy, especially for a first date with his best friend, which was already a nerve-wrecking event. _I can’t believe I’m on a date with someone other than Dean. No. I’m not going to think about him tonight. Tonight is about me and Balthazar and our new beginning._

“Balthazar, I don’t know about this. What if I use the wrong fork or something?” Castiel said nervously.

Balthazar chuckled, shamelessly grabbing Castiel’s hand, as he held the door open with the other, “The general rule is to start from the outside, and work your way inward, or, you can just look at me. It’s not as though I haven’t seen you eat a hundred times.”

“Your name, sir?” asked the host, who was dressed almost, if not as nicely as Castiel.

“Roche.”

“O-of course, Mr. Roche,” the man fumbled just a little, which was fairly common for the Roche name, “Right this way.”

They worked their way through the restaurant, which was complete with candlelight and chandeliers, until the host led them outside- where there was a patio of people dancing, and tables lit with lanterns casting a romantic glow as the sun began to set. The view was stunning from the altitude they were at. They were led to a secluded table a step up from the rest, with what may have been the best view of all.

“Shall I get you a bottle of wine?”

Castiel gaped. They had to know Balthazar was underage.

Balthazar smiled softly, “Not tonight. Just a bottle of water, please, the Italian import.”

“Right away.”

“Thank you,” Balthazar said, folding his napkin into his lap.

_This is extremely different than the diner, even way different than Burke’s or any of the other “fancy” restaurants that Balthazar usually takes me to. Shit. My mouth is hanging open, and I’m still standing up._

Castiel quickly sat down, shutting his mouth and following Balthazar’s lead by putting his napkin in his lap.

“You really didn’t have to do all this,” Castiel blushed.  

“I wanted to get you out of Sioux Falls,” Balthazar admitted, “And I promised to take you dancing. My father and I come here, sometimes. Order anything you’d like.”

All he really wanted was a side-by-side milkshake. He felt a pang of guilt. Here, Balthazar was trying to take him on this wonderful date and all he could do was think of Dean still. He needed to get over it. Dean wasn’t the man he thought  he was and he needed to accept that and move on. Balthazar was trying so hard to make him happy. That’s what he should be focused on.

“Order for me,” he smiled.

Castiel didn’t understand a damn bit of what Balthazar ordered, but trusted his judgment enough to know that he wouldn’t lead him astray. He did catch that Balthazar ordered bread, which was great, and a nervous habit of Castiel’s...to eat the bread when he wasn’t sure what to say.

But, Balthazar, ever charming, had other plans, “You’re in New York, now, Cassie, it’s a whole new atmosphere. Breathe it in, enjoy it.” He grinned, “Come on, love, dance with me.”

“I...in front of all of these people?”

“None of them matter. It’s just you and I here tonight, come now.” He approached Castiel, offering his hand, and escorting him like a proper gentleman to the wooden dance floor where a swing band was currently playing a slow piece.

“You look stunning tonight,” Balthazar whispered as Castiel’s hands went around his neck and they began to sway to the music. The atmosphere of the city was entirely different than small-town Sioux Falls. No one even batted an eye that the two of them were both men, dancing...it didn’t seem to matter here, and for that, Castiel breathed a little easier- although he could only imagine how furious his mother would be if she’d known Balthazar had taken him out of South Dakota, “I’m very lucky,” he added, spinning Castiel gently out, then back in flawlessly, not a footstep or toe out of place.

“I’m the lucky one,” he blushed a little, “And you look very handsome tonight as well.”

He stared into Balthazar’s grey eyes, his smile, finding himself looking at his friend in a whole new light and getting lost in the process.

Balthazar tucked a stray strand of hair behind Castiel’s ear, “Hey, it’s just me, you know. Just be you, love, that’s all I want. The rest will follow. Look,” Balthazar turned Castiel to face the sunset, overlooking the Hudson River, where fireworks were beginning to explode into a spectacular sunset, “It’s all for you.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Still April 17, 199_

_...Meanwhile, in Sioux Falls-_

 

Dean came in from the dollar store, bags in hand, before grabbing the half- ladder from the closet. He grabbed the cordless from the kitchen counter before retreating into his room, collapsing onto the bed- last week’s alcoholic stupor substituted for a strawberry and chocolate side-by-side milkshake from the diner he’d picked up on the way home. He’d cut his hair again, and had spent the majority of the morning at the garage in attempt to not feel sorry for himself. It didn’t seem to be working, but he played the part as convincingly as ever, regardless.

He dialed the number hesitantly, wondering if it had changed. The phone rang once, and then twice.

“Hello?”

“Casey?” Dean asked, flopping down on bed.

“Yeah,” he laughed, “Winchester? That you? Long time no talk. What’s up?”

“Yeah, Casey, it’s me,” Dean smiled genuinely for the first time in awhile, finding comfort in a familiar voice, “Nothing. Not really. How’s college?”

“Busy...but boring. How about you? Still playing football?”

“Well, last year. You know it’s the off season. I’m..uh...actually suspended right now. I was supposed to come back on Monday, but I was thinking about skipping out and making a visit if you’re not too busy.” A ball of guilt settled in his stomach, and he wasn’t even thinking about sleeping with Casey...just hanging out with someone that didn’t remind him of Cas. But, the fact that he and Casey had been fuck-buddies at one point made Dean feel a little nauseous, thinking about Castiel’s accusations. He quickly tried to shove it away.

“Sure, that’d be cool. So, whatchya get suspended for, Dean?”

“Beat the fuck out of some guy,” Dean couldn’t help but smile at the memory, reaching over to take another sip out of the shake.

“Still picking fights I see. Do I have to worry about you kicking my ass, or just fucking it?” he laughed.

“I think you’re safe from both this time around,” Dean said, blushing, “Still haven’t settled down?”

“Hell no!” he laughed again, “Why? Have you?”

“Remember Castiel Novak?”

“Oh yeah, I remember. Boy of your dreams. You finally catch him?”

“For awhile,” Dean said, hearing his voice come out much sadder than he’d hoped.

“What happened? You two break up...recently from the sounds of it?”

“Yeah. He left me for Balthazar Roche.” _Not before five months of perfection, not before making me believe in a future, and that chick flick sappy romance bullshit._

“Damn dude, that sucks. I’m sorry to hear that. You know I’m here if you need me, if you don’t want to wait til Monday.”

“Yeah, I think I might head that way later. It’d be good to do some catching up. If you’re not too busy. I just...I dunno, I need to get out of here. Brother’s driving me crazy, and no one will just let it go. It got…” Dean sighed, “It got pretty serious. I think a change of scenery would be good.”

“Sounds good. I’ll order some pizza, so there’s actually food in the house when you get here,” He laughed again, “It’ll be good to see you again, Winchester.”

“I’m sure it will be,” Dean found himself teasing, and even laughing, “I’ll see you soon, Casey.”

“See you soon, Dean,” Casey replied, hanging up the phone and going back to the living room and sitting down next to his friend on the couch.

“I’m going to have another friend over tonight,” Casey said, as he began to dial for pizza, “What kind of pizza do you want, Cameron?”

“Meat trio,” he replied with a smile, knowing it was Dean's favorite, “So, who is he?”

  


* * *

 

 

Dinner was perfect. Balthazar had ordered steak and fries for Castiel, which surprised him- he didn’t know nice places served french fries. The dipping sauce was called aioli, and it was so good that Castiel was sad when it was gone. His steak had been sliced into thin pieces, cooked to perfection. When Castiel asked why it tasted so much better than something at home, Balthazar explained to him that they aged the meat to enhance the taste.

They finished dinner off with small donut holes that came with three different flavors that you could inject into them. Castiel loved the strawberry puree, and the chocolate. It made him think of the diner, though he was finding that food here was uncomparable to anything back home.

After their dinner, Balthazar pulled him back onto the dance floor, this time, under the soft glow of lanterns and stars. “Wait here,” he smiled, before going to talk with the band.

He came back moments later with a smile, as the familiar hums of Sinatra’s jazzy style began filling the night.

“I love Sinatra,” Castiel smiled with a blush, “But then you knew that. That’s not fair.”

He wrapped his arms around Balthazar’s neck, swaying with him to the music.

 

_Blue moon,_

_You saw me standing alone..._

_Without a dream in my heart,_

_Without a love of my own…_

 

“I did know that. But you see, love, it’s completely fair. I adore this song.” He pulled Castiel closer, their bodies so close that warmth spread between them.

An elderly lady approached, tapping them gently on the shoulders, smiling a toothy smile, her eyes tired and squinty, “Excuse me, young men…”

_Oh no,_ Castiel thought, _This is going to be so awkward._

“You two make quite the handsome couple. Are you here on a date?”

 

_Blue moon,_

_You knew just what I was there for..._

_You heard me saying a prayer for,_

_Someone I really could care for…_

 

“Ah, yes,” Balthazar said, smiling, “He is rather beautiful, isn’t he?”

The older woman smiled, lifting an old polaroid camera from around her neck, “Would you like a photo? I’m sure this will be a lovely memory for years to come.”

Balthazar’s normally calm features flushed. Castiel loved older things like polaroid cameras, and he hadn’t thought to bring one of his own, “What do you think, Cassie?”

“Sure, we’d love to,” Castiel smiled.

“Come here,” Balthazar said, moving Castiel in front of him, still off to the side, before wrapping his arms confidently around him.

“On three, then,” the old lady smiled, “One, two…”

Balthazar’s warm lips were on Castiel’s cheek before ‘three’.

Castiel lit up, face flushing, with a wide grin.

Before Castiel could get the picture, which the lady handed them, before going back to a table with who was presumably her husband, Balthazar snatched it, pocketing it in his suit. “Not yet,” he smiled, dragging Castiel closer again, the song a little over halfway finished by then.

 

_And then there suddenly appeared before me,_

_The only one my arms will hold._

_I heard somebody whisper please adore me,_

_And when I looked to the moon it turned to gold._

 

“So, tell me, love, how good a chance do I have of a second date?” Balthazar whispered against Castiel’s ear as they swayed to the music, “Because I’ve had the most amazing time tonight.”

“I’ve had an amazing time too,” Castiel replied, “I’d say pretty good.”

“Maybe I’ll sneak you away from Sioux Falls more often,” Balthazar smiled, “Take you to Broadway,” he laced his fingers with Castiel’s, forgoing traditional dance for something a little closer, before he began singing,

 

_Blue moon,_

_Now I'm no longer alone,_

_Without a dream in my heart,_

_Without a love of my own._

 

“As long as you get me back by curfew, I don’t see the harm.”

“Good. Then, I look forward to our adventures. Thank you, Cassie,” Balthazar said as the song began to wind to a close, “For coming out with me tonight.”

“Thank you, Balthazar, for everything,” he paused a moment, trying to decide whether or not to do what he was about to do, before deciding to hell with it, and kissing Balthazar on the lips.

The kiss was warm, and inviting, and Balthazar sank into it, wrapping his arms gently around Castiel as the next song started up. He didn’t even bother trying to listen.

  


* * *

 

 

Dean stood in his doorway, looking at his handiwork, rather pleased. On his ceiling were tons of glow-in-the-dark stars from the dollar store, cheaper than Castiel’s, but, able to serve their purpose. Somehow, it made him feel more at home. He went back to his bed, sitting down, and tossing a few piles of clothes into his football bag for his ‘trip’, before looking at the nightstand and righting the photo he’d placed face-down nearly a week ago. Castiel smiled up at him in the photo Amber had insisted on taking. They had been resting on the couch of the trailer, Castiel’s head in his lap. Amber was a great photographer. She captured in that picture, the love that Dean would remember forever- Castiel’s fingers gently resting on his cheek as he looked up at him with love and devotion, a bowl of popcorn in his lap, schoolbooks on the floor. Dean grinned back at him, looking like some sappy guy that was the luckiest man in the world.

He had been. There was no questioning it.

When Castiel left, the stars had gone out, the sunshine turned to rain, and his heart had shattered. Maybe it was wrong to keep telling himself _it’s only for a little while;_ but, it was what he had to do for now.

He ran his fingers over the photo, before throwing his football bag over his shoulder, and turning the lights off as he went out. The stars glowed in return.

  


* * *

 

 

“Blue moon,” Castiel hummed, resting his head against Balthazar’s shoulder on the plane ride home, looking down at their picture and smiling, “Now I’m no longer alone...without a dream in my heart…”

 

* * *

 

 

Dean pulled up to one of the student housing apartments near the college, double checking the address from the ink on his hand, before getting out of the Impala.

 

_...Without a love of my own._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song List for Chapter:
> 
> Crazy/U Drive Me Crazy- Glee  
> Blue Moon- Frank Sinatra
> 
> Hmm...things are getting a little, interesting? Sad? Heartbreaking? What are your thoughts. I'd love to hear them!  
> Until the next time.  
> Stay strong, you're not alone. <3  
> ~Dean


	16. Hold on Loosely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With everything that's happened on the road so far, Dean decides to take a break from reality. But, of course, the life of a hunter always follows him- whether he wants it or not. But, it's always worse when the life of the one you love is on the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings for This Chapter: Adult language, violence, sexual references.**
> 
> ...Surprise? I love you guys.  
> Thank you for your patience.  
> Regularly scheduled posting should resume about now.

* * *

* * *

 

_ Still April 17, 1999 _

 

Dean had driven in silence across Sioux Falls. Every classic rock song from ‘Pour Some Sugar on Me’ to ‘Love Hurts’ and everything in between filled his head with memories of Castiel. Castiel dancing for him, with him, planning a future, or one of the moments they’d shared together...then, inevitably, the day that his heart had, for all intents and purposes, ceased beating in his chest. It always came back to that point, and Dean couldn’t afford it to be there. Not now. There was too much weight dragging him down into the murky depths of his own troubled mind- and he needed to keep his head above water- if not for himself, then for Sammy, for Amber, and even Castiel. John and Bobby weren’t close by, and everyone else seemed to forget the threats. He didn’t have that luxury. So, he took a different one instead.

Going to spend time with Casey didn’t take Dean out of Sioux Falls, per se...just on the outskirts. He could easily be back home within fifteen minutes, or even five if the situation was above the law. He owed himself distance from the dull ache in his chest that re-emerged every time he drove passed a memento of his and Castiel’s relationship- and from classrooms to closets, parks and diners, movie theaters and restaurants alike...there were easily too many of them to avoid.

College was a new world for Dean, and his friendship with Casey was different. But, friendship was all it was, and he knew Casey would respect that boundary, history aside. Casey would understand. He’d been there, after all, when Dean had started pining over the beautiful boy with the glasses. Things could even be somewhat normal for once- just football, and food, and beer, and guys. Reality could wait. Better yet, reality could take a swift turn to Hell and just stay there with his demons- real and figurative alike.

As Dean approached the campus apartments, he noted that it looked as though Casey had done well for himself. He grabbed his backpack out of the Impala before licking the top of his hand, smudging the ink with the address on his thumb and pulling the six-pack out of the passenger’s side. He had no intention of losing himself in it again, so, like everything else- it was for appearances.

He knew he was in the right place by the sound of loud music mingling with the sound of ESPN in the background. He knocked loudly. 

“Dean,” Casey grinned, smiling at him. Dean breathed a sigh of relief, his body relaxing a little from its tension. A familiar face was a welcome sight. There was no denying that Casey was an attractive man- tall and thin with dark skin and beautiful brown eyes. He was looking Dean up and down, “Started to wonder if you’d gotten lost. Come on in. Oh, I kind of have a friend staying with me till he finds a place of his own. Hope that’s cool with you?”

“Hey, I’m the one barging in anyway,” Dean shrugged, “You haven’t changed.” He dropped his voice a couple notches, “Sure he’s just a friend?” The line felt forced, although it was a fair question- Casey was rather infamous for his flings.

“Well, I mean, there was a few times,” Casey said with another grin, taking Dean's bag and the six pack, “But that was  _ days _ ago,” he winked, “We're just friends.” 

“Days,” Dean grinned, nodding as his head tilted, “Well, that must be a new record. ” he stepped inside the apartment. It was so... normal. There was a full mini-bar, stocked with enough drinks to keep a party going for hours. The big TV was blaring ESPN over the background music. There were some dirty clothes strewn about, and a basketball hoop mounted on the wall. It screamed Casey, and ‘safe’ and ‘normal’ and yet, Dean felt himself still on alert.

“Here, I'll just throw your stuff over here for now,” Casey replied tossing it on one of the chairs at the bar. He set the six pack on the counter, grabbing one and tossing it to the boy on the couch, handing another to Dean before opening one for himself. 

Dean sat the can on the table, unopened, before looking at the boy for the first time. He should have extended his hand, introduced himself immediately, even. Instead, he found himself trying to put him together like he were a puzzle. There was a vague sense of familiarity that extended past the boy’s strikingly-similar-to-Castiel’s shade of blue eyes, but Dean couldn’t place it. The long hair wasn’t familiar, nor the dark shades of clothes that he was wearing. Still, the temperature felt like it dropped to the point where he should maybe get out the EMF reader. He shivered as he snapped himself out of his thoughts, finally reaching out his hand, “I’m…”

“Dean,” the boy interjected, taking a drink, “I remember.” 

The chill in the air sent shivers up Dean’s spine, and he withdrew his hand, narrowing his eyes.  _ I know you. Where? How do I know you? _

“Wow, by the look on your face you really don't remember me, huh? I don't blame you. We just spun a bottle once, and I was pretty different back then. Lame, actually,” he said with a smile.

Dean took a step back, tripping over a rather large shoe and flopping down on the couch, “Cameron?” he squeaked, clearing his throat.

“Oh...looks like I do leave an impression,” his smile broadened. 

Dean was torn between ‘what are you doing here’ and ‘how do you know each other’, so he glanced back and forth between Casey and Cameron, befuddled at the irony that he’d just been in Selby, thinking about that bottlecap for the first time since he’d gotten rid of it- and here Cameron was- just like one of those chick flicks where he was just supposed to- something. It wasn’t gonna work. God could open up heaven and give him every blue eyed boy anyone else could want...although, he distinctly remembered Cameron’s eyes being green. Still, he only wanted one. “How do you..ehm...know...each other?”

“I met Casey a while back ago at a party. So, when my Gram passed away I needed to get away and Casey gave me a place to crash. I'm thinking about staying permanently though. Not with Casey of course, but, get my own place somewhere. It's a nice town. Way better than Selby.”

“Funny story,” Dean interjected, turning to Casey to explain, “Remember when I told you about  _ Spin the Bottle _ ?” Dean asked, feeling his face heat up. He remembered explaining Cameron to Casey over awkward kisses that gradually got better. Being in that closet felt like so long ago, but it wasn’t any less awkward.

“Oh damn! That bottle!” Casey said, sitting up a bit straighter. 

“You told him about the bottle?” Cameron smirked, raising an eyebrow. 

“You never asked how I met Casey,” Dean muttered, still feeling the crimson in his cheeks. “Sometimes he likes to yank things out of the closet whether they want to be there or not.” And he had….desperately...wanted to stay in that closet and go back to the normality before his world collapsed and he knew he wouldn’t be John’s golden child anymore. He’d wanted to forget that the first person he said ‘I love you’ to and meant it was another boy. He’d wanted to forget how his body had burned and ached after being touched, how much he’d enjoyed rough kisses. Casey hadn't let him. He'd pulled the door open and called him out on it. Taught him how to be less clumsy, and made him feel like things were okay. He’d been a friend, and an excellent lover. And now, all Dean could think about was the fact that now Casey had slept with Cameron. Awkward. He wondered if Casey’d been of assistance with him, too- because this certainly wasn’t the quiet nerdy boy in class anymore.

“I already know,” Cameron said taking another drink, “Football. Something about locker rooms and showers and well...you know. Also I believe he said something about behind the bleachers during halftime of the finals. Actually...there were a few stories…”

“Casey!” Dean half-yelled, wanting to sink into the couch, desperate to not be the focus of these stories,“Probably not even me you’re thinking of in half of them.”

“No dude, it was totally you,” Casey grinned. “He was the one that brought you up first. So naturally we had to compare notes.” 

“I mean, to be fair they were good notes,” Cameron offered. 

“Yeah,” Casey agreed, “No complaints here.”

Dean suddenly felt very naked in the room, “Can we change the subject?” he asked, grabbing at one of the pizzas.

“No,” they said in unison, before smirking at each other. 

“Alright, alright,” Casey conceded, “We'll stop. He's had it rough the past couple of days.” 

“Yeah, I know. I heard about the break up, Dean. I'm sorry. It fucking sucks,” Cameron replied, before grabbing a slice too. “So, what have you been up to?”

_ I fell in love with a beautiful boy, who shined like the sun. _

Dean felt ice in his veins. Not here. This was the escape and he wasn’t going to talk about it or even think about it here.  Dean looked at the pizza as he picked it up, oozing with cheese and grease, and things that he usually would have loved clogging his arteries with. He wasn’t hungry. He ate it anyway. The other answers didn’t seem any better.  _ Saving people, hunting things… _

He shrugged, “Not much, really. You?”

“Same. You know, just the usual.” Cameron shrugged, taking another bite. 

Dean didn’t know. Didn’t know a damn thing about Cameron anymore. That would never be the case with Castiel, he couldn’t help but think. He’d always be able to pinpoint the color of blue in his eyes. “I don’t know,” Dean said, mouth full, “Looks like ‘the usual’ has changed a lot.”

“I guess it has just a bit,” Cameron smirked again.

The night was less of an escape than Dean had hoped for and more like the Ghost of Exes Past with Casey and Cameron trying to tease Dean, while still comparing notes when they thought Dean couldn’t hear them. The game seemed to drag on endlessly as more and more beer cans and bottles stacked up on the table, none of which belonged to Dean. 

A wave of relief washed over him, as Casey stretched turning the T.V. off, “Well, it’s late guys, we should probably get to bed. Sleep it off.” 

“Yeah, I’m pretty beat,” Dean agreed, yawning even though he really didn’t need to. 

“You sure you want the couch?” Cameron asked, for what seemed like the third time, “We could share,” he offered teasingly. 

“Yeah,” Casey added, grinning, “You know my motto, best way to get over a guy is to get under another one...or on top of...depends on the position really.” 

“I’m fine, guys,” Dean reiterated, a bit of edge slipping into his voice unintentionally, “Just...tired. That’s all.” 

“Well if you change your mind, you know where to find me,” Cameron smiled, heading upstairs. 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Casey laughed, before closing his bedroom door. 

“Doesn’t leave a whole lot off the table,” Cameron called back, halfway up the stairs. 

“Thank God,” Dean muttered under his breath as heard the doors close upstairs and he was left in dark and silence.

He couldn’t sleep. Instead, he counted the ticks of the ceiling fan, mourning the loss of green stars glowing above. He usually struggled with new places a bit, always on guard because new places usually meant a new hunt….but, he found himself a little more defensive than usual, sitting up on alert as Casey’s bedroom door creaked open. 

Casey shuffled in, sleepily, clutching a white cordless phone. Dean couldn’t help but be thankful that Casey had bothered to put on boxers, glancing at the clock and wondering what had Casey out of bed at 3 am. “It’s for you, man,” Casey half groaned. 

Dean’s heart began pounding. This was how horror movies started, wasn’t it? A phone call at a strange place, in the middle of the night. And, worse, the only person he’d left his number with was Sam...just in case.

He didn’t like to ponder what ‘just in case’ after only twelve hours would entail. It certainly wasn’t the good kind of ‘just in case’ in any sense, like Sammy running out of Spaghetti O’s or cash for pizza. 

He grabbed the phone with such haste it seemed to wake Casey up just a little bit, “Sammy?” he assaulted the phone.

The voice that answered back wasn’t Sam’s. It did know his name, and very well. “Dean?”

Dean’s blood ran cold.

_ What had Castiel Novak awake and out of his warm, cozy blankets at 3am? Had he been counting ticks of the ceiling fan, or maybe the stars, to pass the time until he could get sorrowful thoughts out of his mind?  _

“Dean?” The voice asked, “I’m sorry to call, Dean, I just...I didn’t know what else to do, and I’m scared. Please.”

“What…” Dean choked, unsettled by every aspect of the situation, “What’s going on Cas? Where’d you get this number?”

“Sam gave it to me, Dean. Please, I don’t have much time,” his voice crackled. He was obviously at a payphone, “I think I’m in trouble. I think something might be after me. Something’s following me.” 

Dean could hear Castiel’s voice break and the tears start as he continued, “Dean, I’m so scared.”

Dean had so many questions. Why wasn’t Castiel at home? What was following him? Was it human, or monster? Why hadn’t Sam gone after him?

Instead of asking any of those questions, instead, Dean took the role of hero again, more out of fear than redemption. His voice settled into sharp focus, “What’s going on, Cas? Where are you?”

“Big Sioux Recreation Area. My...my car broke down. I don’t think it was an accident…” Castiel whimpered, his voice hushing after, “Dean, please, hurry...someone’s coming. I have to go.”

The line didn’t go dead in the following seconds. Dean heard it bang on glass where it had been dropped. He heard footsteps, followed by inhuman noises, and Castiel screaming, then, running. 

The line finally died, but Dean was out of bed before that, pulling on pants and grabbing for his jacket. He didn’t really stop to think about the details of his plan. He’d figure it out as he went. Shoes were next, all before Casey had time to protest.

“Jesus, Dean, what the hell’s going on, where are you going?”

“I’ve gotta go,” Dean evaded, getting up and trying to brush past Casey. Casey was tall, though, and barred the way.

“Not until you tell me what the hell’s going on.”

“Casey, move,” Dean warned, “I don’t have time for this.”

“Did something happen to Sam?”

“It’s Cas, okay? He’s in trouble and I need to go get him.”

“Your ex?” Casey asked, befuddled, trying to wake up enough to process whatever was going on in Dean’s head.

“Casey,” Dean exhaled in exasperation, “I really don’t have time to explain. I have to go. Something’s wrong. He could be in trouble. Just let me go, man.”

“We should call the police, Dean. Doesn’t make any sense for you to go get yourself into trouble.”

“I can handle it.”  
“You don’t have to be the hero.”

“I’ve got it, Casey,” Dean said, agitation in his voice as Casey reluctantly let him push past.

Casey’s features turned into a scowl, “Alright, alright,” he said, standing aside, “Just be careful, okay? Call if you need anything.”

Dean didn’t respond. He didn’t want to bother with an empty vow.

Cameron was at the top of the stairs. He hadn’t been able to fall asleep either and he heard the entire conversation between Casey and Dean. A door shut, heavier door, front door. Dean left. Another door, lighter door, Casey went back to bed. Cameron snuck downstairs and quietly out the front door, fully dressed still. He was just turning on the engine of his blue 1994 Dodge pickup when he caught a glimpse of the Impala’s taillights fishtailing out of the parking lot. He followed.

 

* * *

 

 

Under normal circumstances, it would have been a twenty-minute drive. Dean made it in ten to no music, just the sound of the engine revving beneath Baby, the highway under the tires, speeding by with the green and black tree blurs that were becoming more and more frequent.

It was still cold outside. Had Castiel remembered to bring a coat? Did he have salt on his person? Holy water? Or, had all of that been tossed aside with their relationship?

When Dean arrived at the recreation area, he swerved in front of an illuminated payphone. It dangled, swaying ominously, and Dean felt his heart ache again as he got out of the Impala.

What if he was too late? What if something terrible had happened to Castiel, and it was his fault because he hadn’t tried harder or trained him more? If they’d been together, then, at least Dean could have offered him safety and knowledge.  _ Of course _ there were things out there that knew that the best way to hurt Dean was through those he loved...and he did love Castiel, whether they were together or not.

He collected a bag out of the trunk full of essentials to deal with...well, whatever it turned out he was facing. The final touch was a flashlight. He nearly had a heart attack when he clicked it on and turned around, seeing Castiel bolt from the wooded path.

His clothes were shredded, and he was scratched a little. His face was dirty, and his glasses were askew, his messy hair messier than usual. But, he was alive. “Dean,” Castiel panted, skidding to a halt in front of the hunter, hands on his knees to catch his breath, “Thank god.”

“Cas? What the hell happened?”

“It was this thing...Dean, it was awful, like something out of a horror movie.”

“Was it a vamp?”

“No- I...I don’t know...maybe...I don’t know what it was, but I think I lost it. I’m not sure.” Castiel darted into Dean’s arms. He was shaking. “Dean, I was so scared.” 

The bag thudded to the ground, forgotten in that instant- because all there was was just them. He and Castiel, nestled within his embrace. Dean’s arms closed around him. It hurt so damn much, but, still, somehow it still felt just right.

“It’s okay,” Dean soothed, petting the back of Castiel’s hair, “You know I’d never let anything happen to you. I’ve got you.”

He tried hard to imagine what he would’ve done if he was too late. He tried briefly to imagine a future where Castiel was more than a ten minute drive away.

_ I’d rather die than let something happen to you. _

The word baby kept wanting to slip from his lips and he hated the fact that he had to keep choking it back down- it didn’t belong there anymore. He pulled off his jacket, wrapping it snugly around Castiel, letting it engulf him. He’d already started to forget how big his clothes were on his loved one.  _ Baby, you’re so cold. What were you thinking?  _

He felt a bit angry that he still had to protect Castiel- because, after all, it wasn’t his fault that any of this had happened...and that so soon after, Cas was already in trouble. How was he ever supposed to live in peace?

He wondered to himself where his leather jacket was now...if Castiel had packed it away, and the rest of their memories along with it...or, if when no one else was around, he still held it close while he slept. It wasn’t the first time he’d wondered...sometimes the thought brought him comfort, curled up in his own bed with the shirt he’d stolen before they’d even kissed.

He ran his hands up and down Castiel’s shoulders to give him warmth, “Come on, let’s get you home. I can come back.” 

When Dean pulled away to head back to the Impala, Castiel grabbed him by the arm. 

“It might be too late by then, Dean. We can’t let it hurt someone. You know that.”

And damn if he wasn’t right. He couldn’t let his worry, his regrettably still-strong affection for Castiel risk other lives.

Dean handed Castiel the flashlight, tugging out a machete from the bag before slinging it over his shoulder again.

“Hold the flashlight,” Dean reluctantly agreed, obviously still somewhat in protest of how much the world’s safety mattered opposed to Castiel’s. He still didn’t like it, but knew that arguing with Castiel was sometimes like arguing with a brick wall, and it would do nothing but waste time and endanger both of them as well as others. “Where’d it go?”

“This way, I think. I’m not sure where it stopped following me,” Castiel whispered, illuminating a trail in the woods with the flashlight. Of course it wasn’t the main path. That would have been too convenient by far. 

“Okay,” Dean said, “Stick close, and if you see anything…” he trailed off. Castiel nodded in response. They walked in silence towards the dark of the wooded entrance before Dean spoke again, “Cas, what are you even doing here? What the hell were you thinking coming to a place like this alone at night?”

Castiel turned his gaze to his feet, “Heh, that.” He walked in silence for a moment, “Balthazar and I kind of had a fight, so I drove out here. I just needed to think.”

Dean didn’t remember seeing the Beetle, but, maybe he’d just been relieved to know that Castiel was alive. It wasn’t of import.

“You didn’t think to just drive home?” Dean was almost certain the question came off more bitterly than he’d intended. The jealousy was sour in his mouth, and made him feel sick. 

“Not really,” Castiel frowned, “You know I’m no good at sneaking in, and my mom...she asks too many questions.”

Dean adored Mrs. Novak. His stomach paid homage to her name by growling a little, remembering pancake breakfasts. Of course, she’d be concerned when Castiel lost his mind. Good, at least someone in his life was making sense.

“Yeah, you’re pretty terrible at it,” Dean agreed, before feeling sick that the jokes still came so easily. This didn’t change anything.

They fell silent again. Dean didn’t need to turn around to see that Castiel was crying now. He just knew, could sense it. They were still so connected, and it had such a profound impact that Dean remembered why he’d left to Casey’s in the first place. Everything was about Castiel- his entire world full of memories, of feelings, of him...and no matter how much he tried to wash it away with alcohol, or distract himself- nothing had worked. 

“Did he hurt you?”

“No,” Castiel answered, trying to push aside his tears and failing, “I ran before it could really get ahold of me. These are just from tree branches and stuff,” he motioned to the state of his clothing and scratches.

“I meant Balthazar,” Dean said, trying to be gentle considering, but still bitterly at best. He’d never wish pain or injury on Castiel- but, he wasn’t opposed to fighting Balthazar again. He hadn’t been satisfied the first time. He remembered his promise to Mr. Roche, but found himself caring little.  _ If he laid a hand on you, this monster won’t be the only thing that dies tonight. _

“No,” Castiel said  quietly, “He would never do that.” 

And yet the tears kept flowing. 

“I miss you, Dean.”

That hurt. Dean didn’t know what to say, stopping dead in his tracks to turn to face the love of his life. “Cas...I…”

“It’s just...I just…” a few tears fell down his cheeks, trying to form the right words, “I just wish I could take it all back, Dean. I’m so sorry. I wish none of this had happened. I just miss you so much. Everyday. All the time. It feels like I’m dying. I can’t...I can’t do this...not without you. Please, Dean, can’t we just go back? Can’t we just forget any of this happened? Please...”

“Hey,” Dean said, wiping at Castiel’s tears, his voice softening, “None of that, alright?”

Castiel erupted into more tears, his body shaking as he ran into Dean’s arms again, burying his face in his chest. “I hate myself, Dean. I was so stupid, and rash and I hate myself. I can’t fix us. You were right. I ruined us, and I’ll never be able to fix it.”

For a moment, Dean forgot the mission at hand. Castiel was more important. He felt hot tears dampening his shirt as he held Castiel tight.  

“Shh, don’t. Don’t cry. Please? Just please don’t cry, sweetheart.” 

“I’m still in love with you, Dean.”

“I- I love you, too,” Dean couldn’t deny, no matter the pain in his chest and how fucking weak it felt to admit aloud after all this time hopelessly trying to not feel. 

“Come back to me,” Castiel whispered, kissing Dean’s cheek.

Dean froze, unsettled. Something didn’t feel at all right. But now, he couldn’t focus on that- he had to focus on keeping Castiel and the rest of Sioux Falls safe from whatever bad thing was out in these woods. He knew whatever was out here was bound to hear them, if it hadn’t already. He took a step back from Castiel.

“Cas, we’ll…” 

Twigs snapped in the forest, causing Dean to jerk back to reality, placing an arm protectively in front of Castiel. “Talk about this later,” he finished, “When this thing is dead. Stay here.”

Castiel whimpered, “Don’t leave me here, Dean.”

Dean turned around, looking Castiel in the eyes. He almost looked lifeless. Had he really been the spark in his sunshine’s life? He tilted his chin up, “Look at me,” he whispered, “Be brave. Like Buffy.”

“I’m trying,” Castiel whispered, reaching out for Dean’s hand and squeezing it tight.

Dean squoze back, pulling the bag up more on his shoulder, machete ready. 

A growl. 

They stopped. 

“I’ve got you,” Dean whispered. 

Then Castiel’s fingers slipped from his grasp as Dean was tackled to the ground. It knocked the wind out of him. A werewolf, Dean realized. The machete had flown out of his hand, lying a couple feet away. The werewolf bared its teeth and Dean punched it more out of reflex than anything else. It growled again. He’d landed hard on top of the bag, which was now wrenching his back pinned between it and the werewolf. Inside it was a gun full of silver bullets that could have wrapped this night up quickly.  _ Damn it,  _ Dean thought angrily. 

He wanted to look at Castiel, wanted to scream for him to run and save himself, and get the hell out of dodge. He knew better. Summers spent with Bobby reminded him of wildlife- to which werewolves were no exception. The first rule of thumb was never to run. The more panicked you are, the more adrenaline pumping through your veins...the less chance you have of getting out alive. The best thing Dean could do was try to formulate a plan to keep the thing’s focus on him.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by another growl, but Dean realized this one came from Castiel as he picked up the machete, baring his teeth  as well. Before Dean could utter another word, Castiel swung as hard as he could. The machete connected with stunning accuracy, sending the werewolf’s head rolling off into the trees, a trail of blood in its wake.  _ Goddamn,  _ Dean thought as he picked himself up off the ground,  _ Has he been practicing more? That was...damn….actually, kind of hot. _

“Goddamn, Cas...looks like you didn’t even need me. Just needed a weapon. Glad I could help,” he grinned. 

Castiel realized he still had his teeth bared and stopped. The machete fell from his fingertips. “I...Dean…”

“Shh,” Dean answered, coming to his side, and pulling him into a brief embrace again, before pulling back, “You did great, Cas. Look, it’s dead. Everything’s fine.” 

“I...I don’t think this was what was following me…” Castiel whispered. “Maybe there’s more of them?”

What was it, some sort of monster party? And to think that he ever even thought that he had a chance of a few days of normalcy, “Are you sure? Did you get a good look before you ran? Do you remember what it was?”

“We should keep going, I’m sure, Dean. I don’t know what it was...but, that wasn’t it.”

Great. Fucking great. 

Castiel picked the machete up, still dripping blood as he handed it back to Dean. He held Dean’s hand once more. He didn’t hesitate before pressing his lips to Dean’s. 

For a split second Dean’s world was back. Everything else slipped away, and there was only Castiel’s lips against his own. Unfortunately, his senses returned all too suddenly, with a rude wake up call entailing blonde hair and an obnoxiously British accent. 

“Whoa, hey there,” Dean said, breaking their kiss and holding Castiel at arm’s length, “Cas...we…” how could he phrase this without making it look bad in any sense, “Look, you’ve gone through a lot tonight. I get that. But, you’re still with Balthazar. Until you break it off, we...we can’t. You should really think about this.”

Dean had never resented being the nice guy more.

He thought back to when Castiel was breaking up with him. How it had felt when his boyfriend confessed he’d already slept with Balthazar. Sure he hated the guy, but he wasn’t going to do that to him. It was just wrong. And it made him just as bad as Balthazar had been when he’d done the exact same thing. So, he wouldn’t, and he couldn’t...no matter how much every part of him wanted those kisses and ‘I love you’s back. 

“Besides,” Dean added, trying to change the subject, “We should probably keep going...like you said...if there’s something else out there.” 

Dean handed the machete back to Castiel and sat the bag on the ground, rummaging for a gun. 

“Dean, I love you,” Castiel continued, “It’s you. It’s always been you. I just want things to go back-” 

Dean heard a gut wrenching gurgling sound and his eyes shot up to see a knife sticking through Castiel’s stomach. 

“CAS!” Dean screamed, turning in all directions to find the assailant. He cocked the gun, trying to see in the dark and failing. “Cas, stay with me. It’s gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay.”

The blue in Castiel’s eyes began to fade. “Dean...please...help...save…”

A knife came down again, and this time, Dean was ready. His hand shot out, stopping the blade just inches before it pierced Castiel’s skull. The blade cut deep into Dean’s hand, blood dripping steadily down and splashing onto Castiel’s face. His arm was shaking with the strength needed to keep the blade from connecting. The guy was strong. Dean could finally make out a face as the distance between them disappeared. 

“Cameron!? What the fuck are you doing?” Dean spat, a mixture of shock and anger coursing through him. There were so many questions. He didn’t know where to begin.  _ Why is he attacking Cas? How did he even get here? Where’d he get a fucking knife from? Who the fuck is this guy? How is he so strong?  _

“Dean, listen to me,” Cameron started, but Dean managed to force Cameron’s knife up enough until he had more of an advantage and snatch the blade from him. 

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Dean growled low, tackling Cameron to the ground.   
Cameron wasn’t going down without a fight. When they connected with the ground, Cameron kicked Dean up and over him, knocking him back a couple feet. Dean wasn’t stopping. He scrambled over, climbing on top of Cameron before he could get back to his feet. The knife was at Cameron’s throat and would have sliced through had Cameron not had surprisingly good reflexes and grabbed the blade with both hands, slicing up his own fingertips in the process. 

“DEAN!” Cameron croaked, struggling to grunt out words between the weight of Dean on his chest and the knife at his throat, shaking as Dean tried to force it down, “It’s not Castiel. Look. It’s a crocotta! It was trying to eat you!”

“You’re a fucking liar,” Dean said through gritted teeth. But the thought sank in, and even if it really was Castiel he couldn’t take a human life, even if that human killed the love of his life.  “Goddamn it!” Dean growled, climbing off of Cameron, blade still in hand. His eyes shot back to Castiel on the path, but he was nowhere to be found. Just a puddle of blood. 

“Cas!? Cas!?” Dean screamed. 

_ He must have tried to get somewhere safe,  _ Dean thought panicking.  _ He can’t be far. I’ve got to get him to the hospital. Now.  _

Cameron picked himself up off the ground, and Dean rounded on him. 

“You’re going to help me find him.”

“Well, yeah we can’t just leave the job unfinished,” Cameron shrugged reaching into a holster on his leg and grabbing another knife. 

“Shut up-” Dean spat, fighting every urge in him not to assault Cameron again, “He’s not a job,” Dean hissed, darting out of the trees and across the path, following the trail of blood. “I swear if he’s not alive…”

“Dean, I told you. It’s not Castiel, it’s a crocotta. If it’s not dead. I’ll take care of it. I know it must be hard for you when it looks like someone you care about.”

Now there were no answers and even more questions. 

“How do you even know what a calcutta is?” Dean struggled with the name. It wasn’t a monster he was very familiar with, let alone encountered. 

“Crocotta,” Cameron corrected, “Same as you, Dean. I’m a hunter.” 

“A what?” Dean managed to try to sound confused, even as a wave of emotions came over him.  _ Who the fuck is this guy? This is NOT the same boy I knew from Selby. _

“Dean,” Cameron shot him a look, “Don’t play dumb. It went this way.”

The clearing opened up a bit and Castiel was face down in the dirt under a large tree. 

Dean approached quickly. It was a body, eyes void of the beautiful blue that Dean couldn’t get out of his head. The body was cold, even with the jacket on. 

Try as Dean may to take Cameron’s words into consideration- at that moment, all he saw was the vision of the worst nightmares he’d ever had. Castiel was dead, under a tree. Killed because of this business, and by association with Dean. All he could hear were Castiel’s words in his head- the promises he’d made not even an hour ago. His body shook, the world spun, his heart shattering and starting again and again in his chest.

He jerked at Cameron’s hand on his shoulder, “Check his teeth, Dean.”

“Can you just give me a fucking moment before I kill you?” Dean asked, thrashing his hands off.

“When the crocotta dies, its teeth go back to being pointed, kind of like a vamp. Just trust me before you try to stab me again.”

_ Why the  _ hell  _ would I ever trust you after what you’ve done? Look at him. LOOK AT HIM. _

It was a feeling he never wanted, but knew could come with the business...the weight and chill of the one you love, cold and lifeless in your arms. His hands didn’t want to move, his body didn’t want to function, and still somehow he managed to bring his fingers to Castiel’s lips.

It was wrong, it was disrespectful, but he managed to push Castiel’s mouth open. He felt a mixture of horror and relief sweep through him upon finding two rows of pointed teeth. It was disturbing to say the least, and that was without thinking about the fact that its mouth had been on him moments prior. He let the thing slump back, still wearing the guise of his loved one.

Dean screamed, kicking into a tree. How could he have been so fucking stupid? Worse- what was he feeling stupid for? Was it the fact that he hadn’t let himself pay attention to Castiel’s car, not present, or the fact that he’d heard a little about crocottas from Bobby, and should have seen all of the other numerous signs? Or...was it simply that he’d been so ready to believe what it was saying, when the real Castiel was likely at Balthazar’s fancy house in his bed, sleeping soundly?

They stood in silence a few moments before Dean looked back at Cameron, “I should say thank you,” he said, still wanting to pummel him.

“Don’t mention it,” Cameron replied, unable to keep from grinning, “I’m sure you would have done the same for me. Come on, let’s get out of here. You look like you could use a drink. I know a place.”

They walked in silence to Cameron’s truck parked beside the Impala. They were unsure maybe what the appropriate thing was to say in such a situation for either of them...such as ‘I’m sorry I killed your boyfriend’s likeness’ or ‘I’m sorry I nearly killed you for hunting’. “You drive,” Dean offered, “I’ll follow.” He couldn’t even think to be upset about drinking again for the first time since the  _ Grease _ meltdown.

“It’s not far,” Cameron said, climbing into the cab of the truck.

They drove a little ways, to the very outskirts of town. There was a tall Sioux Falls water tower. It was a notorious spot for teenagers to go get drunk, or make out, or both. Cameron climbed out of the truck and pulled a bottle out of the backseat. It was Jim Beam whiskey. He shrugged, “Just in case, ya know? Come on.” 

He plopped down under the water tower, staring at the less-than-impressive skyline of Sioux Falls. He handed the bottle to Dean first, “After you. You need this a lot more than I do.” 

Dean drank it straight down, feeling the familiar, comforting burn of trying to forget things. Bobby’d caught him one of the first times he’d ever done it, and lectured him for nearly an hour on how he wasn’t his dad.  _ Huh. You’d think that would’ve been enough, Bobby. _

He hadn’t stopped trying since. It never worked. But, the burn was nice. 

Still, it wasn’t taking away the image of Castiel bleeding out in front of him, sinking to his knees, blue eyes fading away. It didn’t take away the completely irrational urge to wrap his hand around Cameron’s throat and choke the life out of him, watch him crumple before him for daring to lay a hand on his sunshine.

_ Pull it together, man. It was a monster. He saved your life. _

_...If I ever have to watch that again...I’d rather die. _

“You’re a hunter,” Dean stammered, trying to collect himself. The words sounded like something forbidden and wrong coming out so freely.

“What gave me away?” Cameron joked, trying to lighten the mood, as he took a huge swig. 

“When?” Dean asked, not answering the question, just drinking more. The burn was starting to go away, but, he didn’t feel anything. Cameron definitely hadn’t been a hunter when he was sitting cross-legged in the circle, watching the bottle spin and adjusting his glasses.

“A few months ago, just after Grams passed away,” Cameron shrugged.

“Was it a monster?” Dean asked softly.

“After you left, vamps pretty much took over Selby. Guess without the Winchesters around, we were easy targets. Couple people died, they killed grams, cops didn’t have any idea, and most people thought it was some kind of drug scandal.  Didn’t really know what happened myself till I was in the car with the guy that wiped out the nest. Called himself Harvey. Told me he’d take me somewhere safe where he knew a guy. Never had the chance to meet him though. I wanted to learn how to protect myself. I guess grams’ death was kind of an eye opener for me.” Cameron added, taking another drink, “So, Harvey taught me everything he knew. And then he got killed by a Soul Eater. So, figured I might as well come to the place he’d mentioned. And, lo and behold, I’m not even here a month and running into the infamous Dean Winchester.”

“You knew I was a hunter?” Dean asked, taking another drink, a little surprised.

“Everyone knows you’re a hunter, Dean,” Cameron rolled his eyes, “I mean, you’re kind of famous. Every hunter knows about the Winchesters. Explained a lot about your dad being gone so much, and why you needed to leave so quickly. Don’t worry, I forgive you,” he winked, before changing the subject, “So, that was him, huh? Your ex? Cas or Castiel...whatever you called him. Pretty cute, but I gotta say you kinda have a type.” He grinned. 

“As you pointed out, technically wasn’t my ex,” Dean was quick to correct, before swiftly changing the subject, “So, this Harvey or whatever...must’ve been a good hunter. I don’t remember reading much lore about crocottas.” Dean tried to remain amiable. He really was curious about Cameron being a hunter. It would have seemed like such a foreign idea in the past.  _ You don’t know anything about him, though. Whatever it was that you thought we had back then...it’s not the same. I don’t have a ‘type’. My type is him. Just him. Always. _

“Oooo, quick to change the subject aren’t we? Touchy, I see. Yeah...Harvey was a great hunter. He kept to himself pretty much, so you may not of heard of him. Guy knew his shit though, and grilled me pretty quick. We ran into one in California.”

“I just don’t really feel like talking about it,” Dean dodged again.

_ He’s gone. _

“Harvey. The name sounds familiar, but, I’m not sure. It’s…sorry, I never would have expected this in a million years,” he admitted, staring at the sky. Castiel’s ceiling had a better view.

“Expected what?” Cameron asked stretching out on the grass as well, “Having drinks with your ex, after leaving your other ex in the middle of the night to go save your other ex, who turned out to be a monster all along? Yeah...they can’t write this shit.” 

_ His name is Castiel. He’s the sunshine in this dark hell of a world. He’s everything to me. He’s gone. Oh, god, he’s gone. _

“No,” Dean choked, trying to pry himself away from the bloody imagery again, “I mean...you being a hunter.”

“Yeah, well that’s life for ya. Shit happens. Gotta say I don’t regret it though. I’d rather go down fighting than be cannon fodder like the rest of the sheep around here.”

“That’s not fair,” Dean said, standing up in a way he would never to John if he were to say such a thing, “They’re just ignorant, that doesn’t mean their lives aren’t worth something.”

“Didn’t say they weren’t. Just means what it means. That they’re sheep. Easy prey. And it doesn’t matter how good of a shepherd you are, you can’t save the whole flock.”

“But I can save as many as I can. If not, what are we doing?”

“Currently? Drinking,” Cameron said, smart-assedly, “I know the speech. Save as many as you can, blah blah blah. Doesn’t mean that people aren’t going to die, and Hell how many of them could we save if they just knew what was out there? If they had silver and guns and salt and holy water? The best way to save someone is to help them save themselves. But that’s never gonna happen. All you’d end up with is a bunch of sheep causing mass panic and trampling each other. It’d be chaos. So a few dead sheep is better than the entire flock.”

“You can’t give everyone ammo or a gun and expect them to be responsible with it. Imagine mass panic with weaponry. It would only be a matter of time before there were witch hunts. I’m not talking real witches, either- I’m talking about brother killing brother. That’s why the innocent stay innocent.”

“Hey, believe me I know. That’s why I’m not spreading the news around. Never said it was a good idea, just that it would be a smart idea...ya know...if people were actually  _ smart _ .”

“I think that would be a pretty depressing world, honestly,” Dean said, “If you took away their hope, and their safety.” He was speaking from experience. Looking from the outside in, the naivety of not knowing what was out there seemed so beautiful. “Once you’re in this life...nothing’s really the same again, is it?”

“No, it’s not. When a vamp breaks in to feed on you in the middle of the night you have a machete ready, instead of hiding under the blankets and waiting for the bad man to go away. Believe me, talking from experience here. If it weren’t for Harvey, I’d be dead ten times over. I’m grateful. A depressing world is better than no world at all.” 

Dean couldn’t help but think about Castiel, who was no longer ignorant of the things that went bump in the night. He didn’t think that it was fair that he was saying one thing about the rest of the world, but not applying it to the ones he loved. It wasn’t up to him to pick and choose who remained unaware, and to arm those he loved. He wasn’t God...if there even was a God. 

He was glad that Castiel had found out the truth. It made it far less likely that incidents like what this night could have been would actually happen. Still, Dean couldn’t get the vision out of his head. “I need to go,” he said suddenly.

“Hey, we just got here,” Cameron retorted, “You’re not even buzzed yet. Come on, let’s talk some more.”

Dean didn’t want to talk more. He still felt anger coursing through his veins. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d ever be able to look at Cameron again without seeing him stabbing Castiel, hurting the one that he loved. There was no alcohol in the world that could take that sight away, “I really need to go,” he reiterated, getting up off the grass, “Thanks for the drink.” 

He neglected to mention ‘thanks for saving my ass’ as he started to walk away.

“And saving your life,”Cameron called as he’d almost reached the Impala, “You’re welcome! Glad I could help!” 

“I could have handled it,” Dean called back, getting in the car, “Like you said, I’m a Winchester.” He shut the door and turned up the volume, lucky that the radio was playing AC/DC instead of some sad oldies track, before he drove away leaving Cameron alone.

 

* * *

  
  


There was only one solution to getting the violent images of Castiel’s demise out of his head, and that was, to go see Castiel in person- in tact, whole, and probably asleep with Balthazar.

It was for this reason that once Dean arrived in the quiet little neighborhood Castiel called home, he just sat on the curb for at least twenty minutes, his heart pounding with fear. He wasn’t sure why he was so afraid- whether it was the irrational thought that the thing in the woods had in fact been his sunshine, or whether he was afraid to see Balthazar holding Castiel through the night, or whether he didn’t want to be turned away.

The first signs of sunrise were looming on the horizon when he finally got out of the car, looking at the window. He’d climbed it a thousand times at least, like some sort of white knight. So why now did it feel like he was the monster?

Regardless, he climbed up, breathing several sighs of relief to find Castiel alone, curled up with a pillow. He was even more at ease when he found the window unlocked, allowing him access to slip in.

_ What am I doing here? I don’t belong here. I’m just...breaking in, watching him sleep like some sort of criminal. This is messed up.  _

Castiel tossed a little in his sleep, causing Dean to freeze a moment, before reassessing his features. He remembered them well. Cas’ eyes were softly closed, his mouth ajar with small snores emitting from his lips, a little drool on the corners of his mouth. Dean smiled.

He knelt beside Castiel’s bed, tucking a bit of messy hair away from his face behind his ear.  _ You’re safe. I’m so glad. It’s all I wanted. Hate me if you want...just, live. _

Castiel stirred a little. He knew Dean was there before he even opened his eyes. He could smell the familiar scent of him that had started to leave his pillows. “Dean?” he whispered, groggily, “What’s wrong? What happened? Are you ok?” 

_ I watched you die. I damn near killed the person who did it. I didn’t care that it was a monster. I felt like I was dying.  _ Dean shook his head, “Please don’t make me go.” He knew nothing had changed...that it had all been lies that the crocotta had fed to him, but still, he didn’t want to be forced away...not now, not after tonight.

“Dean,” Castiel said, propping up a bit on the pillows and fumbling for his glasses, “Just talk to me. You’re scaring me. What happened?”

“I…” There was no way Dean could tell him what had happened. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them. But, a twisted truth was better than an all out lie, “I had a nightmare,” he tried to smile, pretending to laugh it off. “I...I needed to make sure you were safe. It was just a dream.”

“What happened?” Castiel asked, pushing his glasses up his nose, “Tell me about it.”

He scooted over, patting a spot on the bed. 

Dean took his shoes off and climbed into the bed without further hesitation, “It was just a dream,” Dean reiterated.  _ I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here. But, at the same time, there’s nowhere else I should be more. _ “I’m sorry.”

Castiel knew better. He knew Balthazar would be angry to see Dean in his bedroom, let alone in his bed. But, they had been friends before they had been lovers, and old habits die hard. It was hard to be cold to Dean especially when he was so obviously shaken up. He was pretty sure that this had nothing to do with a nightmare, but was wise enough to know that Dean wasn’t going to give him the details of what really happened either. Not until he was ready, and even then it probably wasn’t likely. 

“It’s okay,” Castiel soothed, wrapping Dean up in a hug, “It was just a dream. You’re okay now. Look it’s gonna be light out soon even.” 

It hadn’t been real. At least, it hadn’t been real this time. But, how long would it be until something terrible  _ actually _ happened? Letting Castiel into his world had been so incredibly selfish, because now, he couldn’t just let him go. Now, there may as well have been a target on his back, or a sign saying ‘how to destroy Dean Winchester’. He held tight to Castiel, “I can’t do this, Cas,” he choked out, Castiel’s warmth flooding him with relief.  _ How can you possibly expect me to let you go? _

“Dean…” Castiel started hesitantly.

“Don’t…” Dean interrupted, “Please, not tonight. I’m not asking for anything other than this, Cas. So please.” He caught the sound of his own patheticness in his voice, and remembered himself down on his knees that night, begging for Castiel to reconsider.

The image was fresh in Castiel’s mind as well, and a pang of both sadness and guilt hit him, “Okay,” Castiel nodded, “I get it. I do. Just, calm down okay? I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.” 

_ If you get it- then, why? Why, Cas? Make me understand. Please.  _ He didn’t want to be calm, but, it was against his control. It just seemed to naturally happen when they were together. Dean could hear Castiel’s heart beating against his ear- his head resting on his chest. It was almost enough to make him forget that he couldn’t lean up and kiss him tenderly, kiss him until he knew how much he was loved. Dean’s fingers opened and closed before slipping around his waist.  _ Please don’t turn me away. Please remember that you love me. Please let this fucking nightmare die. _

Castiel’s heart still fluttered instinctively at Dean’s touch. A part of him hated himself for it. But it was hard to stop loving someone cold turkey. In his heart of hearts he knew his love still belonged to Dean, as well as his heart, his body, his everything. All of it was screaming at him to just stop and give into Dean, that they belonged to him. All he could do was hope it would get easier with time, maybe one day he could feel something similar with Balthazar, never the same. It would never be the same ever again, but, something similar he hoped. Right now, though, now was hard. All he wanted to do was forgive and forget everything, curl up with Dean and wake up like none of this had ever happened.  _ If only things could be that simple.  _

Dean looked up, noticing that Castiel seemed to be fighting demons of his own again. He knew every expression, every abnormal sigh. “Cas…”  _ Oh, sweetheart… _

Dean sat up in a soft motion. It was gentle, not full of hunger or desire, when Dean leaned Castiel back just the slightest bit, his hand on his cheek, warm lips pressing against Castiel’s. He remembered what he’d thought the first time they’d kissed, and found that even after time, the same thing applied-  _ there really are fireworks, just like in the movies, even in the most innocent of kisses when the souls love so well. _

Castiel moaned against Dean’s mouth. It wasn’t lustful or even intentional, rather instinctual. It was his body’s natural reaction to Dean’s lips. And what resolve that he had managed to muster up was dissolving, much like his insides. He melted into Dean’s soft embrace, running his fingers lightly through his hair, before wrapping his arm around Dean’s neck. It was like they were made for each other. It just felt right. 

It...it was right. There was really nothing that needed to be said. It was like those chick flicks usually said, one heart, beating in two bodies. There was no denying it, and neither of them tried. Neither of them spoke the ‘I love you’ between them, but it was there nonetheless. 

Dean didn’t move to break the kiss. He scarcely dared breathe. And when they finally pulled apart, it was Castiel, gasping air back into his lungs. “Dean…”

Dean braced for it...for Castiel telling him that it was a mistake and that he should go. He should have known better than to push too far.

“...can I hold you, Dean?” Dean looked so tired, like he hadn’t slept in days...Castiel somehow got the feeling that Dean hadn’t been having very many good dreams lately.

Dean looked a bit taken aback, before he began to settle down into the blankets. It was usually the other way around, but, he was far from complaining. He didn’t know what should be said…’thank you’ didn’t feel right, too formal, too distant- but he would’ve meant it nonetheless.

Instead, as he laid down and Castiel wrapped an arm around him, he picked up his hand, pressing it to his lips before clutching it tightly to his chest.

“Goodnight, Cas,” he whispered, although his brain was supplying other words:  _ sunshine, beautiful, sweetheart, baby… _

“Goodnight, Dean,” Castiel said, gently kissing the back of his head so lightly that he wasn’t sure Dean had felt it, “No more nightmares, alright?”

For the first time since the world had collapsed beneath him, Dean felt like it was a promise he could keep. He fell asleep quickly in his loved one’s arms. He’d been fighting so hard all day, in one way or another, that the first moment of peace had him slip away into the best night’s sleep he felt he’d had in months.

Castiel, however, had slept peacefully most of the night. Instead, he laid awake, enjoying the slight tingling feeling of his arm going numb in Dean’s grasp and the soft snores that slipped from his lips. He picked up one of his favorite past times that he’d nearly forgotten about: counting Dean’s freckles. 

The sun began to shine through his window, making it easier to see freckles in  the light. 

….. _ 31, 32, 33, 34…. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End Notes:
> 
> Songlist:   
> Love Hurts- Nazareth  
> Pour Some Sugar On Me- Def Leppard  
> Hold on Loosely- 38 Special
> 
> So, wow, guys. Long time. If you're still here- thank you. Hopefully, chapters are back to a month-by-month thing. A lot of stuff happened and there was a hiatus and whatnot- and now, well, as you can see- I'm back.  
> Thank you for your patience, and hope you enjoyed the new chapter. As always, I'd love to hear anything you notice, or any theories, or aha-moments. Your comments make my entire day.  
> Thank you for your continued love and support. I am so lucky that I have the best readers in the world.
> 
> So much love,   
> Dean


	17. Best of Both Worlds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no easy road to redemption, especially when you keep making the same mistakes. It sometimes begs the question of which decision was wrong to begin with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings for this Chapter: Trigger (Mentions of attempted suicide/self devaluation), Adult Language, Sexual Content.**
> 
> Hey all. Sorry for being about a week late. Not catching a break. ^^" About half of this was written with a broken hand. Still continuing with the heartbreak theme. This story is a long one. Stay with me, and we'll get through the pain. I promise I won't keep you hanging for 13 years <<. Short notes this time because broken hand. I'll do my best to get the new chapter out ASAP. Thanks for being amazing!
> 
> <3  
> -Dean

* * *

* * *

_April 18, 1999_

 

Castiel was glad and maybe a little relieved that his parents were gone for the weekend. Neither of them understood what had happened with Dean, which was a little frustrating anyway. Explaining this would have been worse. Still, his stomach was growling, and at least if they were home, his mom would have woken him hours ago with pancakes, eggs and bacon, or maybe oatmeal. As it was, he’d devoured the couple of candy bars on his nightstand nearby. He’d had a couple bathroom breaks, but, couldn’t bring himself to leave for too long, for fear of Dean waking from a nightmare, scared and alone.

He wasn’t sure what he expected anyway...nothing had changed overnight. His thoughts were growing darker, but, he thought he had it under enough control that he hadn’t started taking his medication again, and hadn’t been to see Dr. Fox, not wanting to explain to yet another person why something so beautiful and seemingly perfect had fractured beyond redemption.

Dean wasn’t the only one with nightmares. Castiel’s were just usually in the waking hour- today was no exception.

_It wasn’t a nightmare, and you know it. Probably just a fight he had with his new boyfriend. The one he calls sunshine._

_That’s not true,_ his mind argued, _he really was scared last night. There’s no way it was an act. He didn’t even try to have sex with me, or ask me to come back. There was probably a monster._

 _So what?_ The darkness crept back in. _He’s still the same. Nothing changed. He cheated on you. You have Balthazar now. And, even if you didn’t, you can’t take him back. He’ll just lie to you and break your heart again._

 _I know!_ He was near to tears now, at war with himself, _It just hurts, okay? I can’t bear to see him like that._

He turned to look at Dean, still lost to dreams. He was so beautiful, and it was so hard for Castiel to look at him and believe that everything they had was a lie.

 _You cheated too, you know?_ The dark thoughts pressured him, _Didn’t even wait til Dean was gone before you jumped in bed with Balthazar. He may have cheated first, but he didn’t deserve that. And the saddest part? Balthazar really does love you. He’d never cheat on you or hurt you. He never has. Still, you’ll probably just fuck everything up with him too._

He just wanted it to be quiet. He wanted all the thoughts to just stop, so he could live in the moment and figure out what he was going to do when Dean woke up. He’d been so content hours ago, counting freckles, and now he found he couldn’t get past twenty without arguing with his conscience again.

When Dean opened his eyes, he found Castiel staring off into space. It was everything in him not to roll over, and wrap his arms around him, kiss him, and tell him ‘morning, sunshine’. “You look lost,” he chose instead, “Where are you at?”

Castiel jumped, not realizing he’d woken up yet.

“Just...thinking,” he said weakly, not sure of what else to say.

“Yeah, I can see that. If you frowned any harder, that TV might disintegrate. Want to talk about it?”

The events of the prior night were coming back to Dean. He let out a deep breath, relieved that Castiel was alive, whether or not that frown was etched into his features because of him.

“Not really,” he said quietly. There was nothing to say. Nothing would change any of it. As much as he hated the dark voices in his head, they weren’t all lies.

“Can we at least have a better goodbye?” Dean asked, feeling the words choking in his throat. _I love you so much. I can’t leave it like that._ There was no goodbye he could offer that would leave him feeling any less broken.

The pang of guilt hit Castiel again. _Maybe I was too hard on him. I was just so angry._

“I wish it didn’t have to be goodbye,” Castiel said honestly, “I mean...I was kinda hoping...if it’s not too much to ask...I wanted to know if it’s possible if we could go back to being friends. I just...I miss you, Dean.”

Dean couldn’t help but hate himself for the spark of hope that burned within him in that moment. Castiel missed him too. “I mean, not to sound ungrateful, Cas- I’m just wondering what that looks like, I guess. What it means?” _Limits. You were never ‘just friends’._

“You know, like before. Maybe we could hang out some  time or, at the very least talk? It’d be nice ya know?” He smiled a little.

“I can try,” Dean offered, honestly. He wasn’t sure that ‘try’ was really the right word. He’d never looked at Cas and thought ‘buddy’ or ‘pal’. He could try to pretend that he’d never come out to Castiel, or admitted his feelings- but the flirtations altogether were part of what defined them, “We’ve…” he started, pausing to think whether he should offer the statement, and chose honesty, “We’ve never been just friends though, Cas, have we?”

“I mean...I always thought...in the beginning…” he trailed off, unable to meet Dean’s eyes, “Sometimes I forget how long you liked me for. I mean, couldn’t we at least try?”

“I can try to pretend I don’t love you,” Dean answered, honestly as he always tried to be with Castiel, “I can’t guarantee it’ll be anything other than a piss-poor attempt on the outside looking in. I can’t guarantee I can ever be happy for you and Balthazar, and I can’t guarantee I won’t look at you like you’re my whole goddamn world, Cas. Cause, you are. That hasn’t changed.”

_Then why does it feel like it’s changed? Why does everything feel so different now?_

Castiel nodded, “I understand, Dean. I know it won’t be easy, but...I’d like to try.”

Dean had a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue, his heart shattering in his chest now maybe more than ever, knowing that Castiel didn’t hate him, needed him around. _Why? Is Balthazar that much better than I am? Is it the money? What changed between us? We were so happy. I know we were happy. I still have money under my bed for our future, and I’ll work twice as hard for it as Balthazar will ever work a day in his life. Why? Why? Try? Do you have any idea how hard I’m trying not to kiss you right now?_  “I miss you so much.” _You’re so far away,_ _even when you’re close..._

“I miss you too, Dean,” Castiel reiterated. _Why did I ever have to go in your room that day? Why can’t we just…? No, because you deserved to know the truth. Shut up, I just...I don’t want to think about it right now._

Like so many of their heartfelt moments, they were interrupted. This time however it was by the sound of Castiel’s stomach growling loudly.

“I might also miss breakfast...and lunch…” he said, weakly, trying to lighten the mood.  

Dean smiled, just as half-heartedly, “That...I might be able to do something about. Come on, let’s raid the pantry.”

Castiel blushed a little.  “I...Dean...you really don’t have to do that.”

He felt bad to have Dean cook. It seemed more like a boyfriend thing than a friend thing. But his stomach growled loudly again and he felt like he wasn’t really in much of a position to argue at this point.

Dean dug through the pantry, “Hm, lunch or breakfast?” he asked, flipping on the radio.

“I don’t really care,” Castiel replied, taking up his normal spot on the barstool at the island to watch.

Dean set to work, both hating the silence between them, and thankful that there was background music so they hadn’t fallen into a complete void. He concentrated on mixing pancake batter, and frying bacon, almost as though if he could remember and perfect each thing exactly as Castiel liked, that he had half a chance. He slipped a plate in front of Castiel, “Pancakes, extra crispy bacon, eggs over-easy, and dark toast with butter and jelly,” he announced.

Castiel broke into a huge genuine grin. _How can someone know you so well? When they leave aren’t they just supposed to forget all of this stuff?_

“You really didn’t have to,” Castiel said, blushing harder, but happily picking up his fork in one hand and a strip of bacon in the other, “I mean we could have just had...cereal…”

“That’s what Sammy’s for,” Dean said, “Who else do I get to spoil like this?”

 _Someone._ Castiel thought quietly. He didn’t feel like he deserved to be spoiled. He’d almost forgotten that Dean could cook breakfast rivaling that of his mother’s. It was gone in only a couple of minutes.

“How’s Sam been, by the way?” he asked, trying to act like everything was normal though it felt anything but.

“I don’t know,” Dean answered, feeling a guilty pit sinking into his stomach at the (true) statement. It hadn’t occurred to him until just then how neglectful he’d been of everything in his life since his world had ended.

“Probably hanging out with Amber,” Castiel offered, not really meaning to have brought up a painful subject. He tried to give him a smile, “Either that or buried in Nintendo and pizza boxes.”

“Probably,” Dean agreed a little absently. It felt like he was a shadow in his own life. This kitchen was where he and Castiel had played house, full of laughter, and happy, beautiful memories. And then, what kind of brother didn’t know exactly how Sam was? “Cas...I should...I should really go check on him.” His heart broke as he said the words. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to bask in the sunlight all he could until it inevitably shut down and turned to shadow with the words ‘we can’t’ or ‘we’re only friends’.

“Alright,” Castiel replied taking the dishes to the sink, “Tell him I said hi, alright?”

Sam wouldn’t want to hear it. He was, if possible, more angry with Castiel than Dean. Some job Dean had done thanking his brother for his loyalty, leaving him with a wad of cash and the Nintendo. _Oh, dear God. I_ am _turning into my father._ Dean suddenly simultaneously hated himself, and understood what the loss of a loved one could do. He had to make this right with Sam. “Cas...don’t change your mind. Please. Call me, okay? I’ll...I’ll be better.”

“I’m not...changing my mind, that is,” he added quickly, “And I’ll try to call tonight, but I have a lot of homework too.”

“Maybe we can do it together?” Dean tried, hopefully. Since his suspension, his grades had begun to plummet, and he’d found himself not caring.

Castiel thought about it a moment. Balthazar was out of town with his father, and his parents weren’t expected back for another two days. _I wonder how his grades have been. He could probably use the extra help, and company would be nice._

“Why not? Your place or mine?”

“Yours,” Dean said, like there was any other choice in his chaotic life.

“Alright,” Castiel nodded, _It’s a date. No. No. It most certainly is not a date. It’s...two friends doing homework together…completely un-datelike._ “I’ll order a pizza or something, ya know, brain food.”

“I can cook if you want,” Dean shrugged.

“I…” _no, too close to a date. Plus it wouldn’t be right to make him work...after everything…_ “It’s fine. I’ve got it. I mean, you’ve done enough already. I’m not completely useless, ya know.”

 _Least not all the time,_ Castiel thought a little bitterly.

“Well, there was the time you set off the smoke alarm trying to make grilled cheese,” Dean teased, desperately not wanting to leave.

“Hey! That was only...four times…,” he muttered, “I said pizza, I said nothing about cooking it.”

“We should,” Dean said suddenly, “We should try cooking pizza.”

“I...we’re supposed to be studying, Dean,” Castiel replied, before his brain could process any other arguments.

“Come on, Cas, we can do both, your head can’t already be completely shoved into those schoolbooks. It’ll be fun.”

“But, Dean, we should really focus on the studying part…” Castiel suggested meekly, knowing that between the two of them he was already outvoted.

“Well, I can’t make you cook a pizza with me. But you should consider. I’ll be back later, say around 8?” he asked. Normally he wouldn’t have bothered- would’ve just climbed in a window.

Castiel nodded, “See ya soon.”

 

* * *

 

Dean spent the ten minute drive back to the trailer park thinking of what he could possibly say to Sam. It was like a punch to his gut to feel like he was no better than his father in any way...that he’d done the same thing to Sam that John had done to both of them.

His feelings didn’t ease when he pulled up to the trailer, only to find John’s pickup in the drive, next to another familiar truck. He froze.

He felt his heart sink into his stomach. Sammy had probably tried dialing Casey’s and warning him. Bad brother of the year award continued to go to him. He hadn’t called Sam and checked in. How bad could this possibly get? John was half likely to beat his ass for leaving Sam on his own. Best to get it over with, in any case.

When he opened the door, he was greeted to the weirdest sight he’d seen in the past 24 hours- and he’d seen some shit. John sat at the table with Sam, who looked up at him instantly. Across from John was...Cameron?

Never in a million years did Dean think he’d see his dad laughing so hard he was spewing a bit of beer, while talking to his ex boyfriend.

He carefully shut the door, slowly approaching as though it was something from a bad horror movie.

“So, then, the rugaru’s brains just splatter on the wall,” Cameron laughed, looking up to note Dean’s arrival and nodding.

“Sounds just like Harv!” John laughed, almost spilling his beer, which was clearly not his first, judging by the table top covered in empty bottles. Home sweet home. “Hasn’t changed a bit, crazy son of a bitch.” He turned to face Dean, “Siddown, son, you never told me you knew Harv’s boy.”

_Wasn’t ‘Harv’s boy’ when I knew him. Think I preferred him better with a bottle of coke, not beer._

“Small world,” Dean said, looking between the three of them with a million questions.

“Ah,” Cameron started, grin still plastered on his face from his conversation with John, “I just assumed you went home when you weren’t at Casey’s. Swung by to check on you. Sure enough, your dad was home. So, just been waiting on you. We’ve been swapping war stories for...what...two or three hours, John? Man, your dad’s got some good ones! Like that banshee down in Lawrence, or, the one where you took down...what was it? 34 vamps in Evansville with just Bobby and Rufus. That’s fucking awesome.”

Sam looked up: _Please help me._

“43, actually,” John boasted, sticking out his chest a little, “But, hell, that was years ago. Getting old now.”

“No way,” Cameron countered, “You’ve still got it. Hear stories all the time. Hell, I’d love to come on a hunt with you guys, sometime. I mean, if it’s okay with Dean. I’d love some stories of my own.”

“Course Dean doesn’t care, right, Dean? Problem is getting him out anymore. Boy likes to forget he’s a Winchester.”

_No, dad...I’d like to. You won’t let me._

“Plenty to keep me busy in Sioux Falls. It’s not exactly a dead cell.”

“Monster here and there don’t keep you sharp, boy. Besides, give you a chance to show Cas the ropes.”

Other than John’s talking, the room went cold and silent from all corners, almost like a ghost was with them.

“...Where is he, anyway? Figured that’s where you’d been all night. ‘Ey, Sammy, get us another round of beers. Siddown, Dean,” John said again, this time, patting the dilapidated wooden chair to emphasize his point.

Sam didn’t have to be told twice. After hearing about the incident with Castiel and the textbook, he knew how explosive the relationship between Dean and John had gotten. He scurried out of his chair and busied himself in the fridge.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” Dean said simply, just a hint of edge in his voice. He supposed it was more than he could’ve hoped for that Bobby had explained the situation and spared him the misery, “I don’t want a beer, Sammy, it’s okay. Do you have homework?”

“Already finished. I did it on Friday,” Sam shrugged, bringing two beers to the table, one for Dad and the other for Dean in case he changed his mind, or in case dad didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Dad kinda had a way of making you want to drink one way or another, “But there was that project I was working on. I’m almost finished. You wanna come take a look? See what you think so far?”

“What?” Dean said a bit distracted, but then he saw the look Sam gave him from behind Dad’s shoulder and it clicked, “Oh yeah, that project. You been working hard?”

“Oh yeah,” Sam lied, walking into his room, “Been spending a lot of hours on it.”

He shut the door behind Dean and rounded on him.

“Who the hell is this guy, Dean?” Sam hissed. He looked at Dean questioningly, but he didn’t ask aloud. His allegiance was with Dean, no doubts there, always had been, but there was something about that look. Like it was on the tip of his tongue, _Is that the guy Cas thought you were cheating with?_

“Oh, man, it’s a fucking long story,” Dean sighed, sitting down on Sam’s bed. It squeaked underneath him, as he ran his fingers exasperatedly through his hair.

“Then talk. Fast. You never know how long it’s going to be before Dad just decides to barge in. Is that _Cameron_ Cameron? Like _the_ Cameron? From Selby? Because that’s what he told me and Dad _._ ”

“Yeah,” Dean said, trying to make a long story short, because, Sam was right. Dad wasn’t known for his patience. “Guess some vamps took over Selby after we left and some hunter saved his ass. My guess is that his hunter friend came here looking for Bobby. He went and got himself killed, Cameron stayed and made friends with Casey of all people. Ran into him last night. Ran into a monster last night, too. Man, Sammy, it looked like Cas. Something called a crocotta. Cameron just showed up and wiped the thing out..”

“Damn dude...it looked like Cas? And he actually killed it? Without any help? That’s actually kinda badass. Have you seen Cas?”

“He wants to be my friend. But he wants to date Balthazar. Whole thing’s a bit fucked up. And man, I can’t get the image out of my head- him bleeding out on the ground. Just, shit, Sammy, I could’ve gone my whole life without seeing that.”

“I can’t even imagine,” Sam said, spacing off a little bit and it was clear he was thinking about Amber and what he would have done in that situation. He gave himself a little shake, “And then what?” he asked, that accusing tone in his voice.

“What do you mean ‘then’?”

“Where were you all night, Dean?”

Silence.

“You were with Cas, weren’t you?”

“Nothing happened…” Dean said, guiltily

“Man, Cas is fucked up. Still think you should have just let me kick his ass. Still can.”

“Like it would be a fair fight?” Dean said, knowing the statement would sate Sam more than his sadness. Sammy had gone through enough of that, and Dean was determined to just be a good big brother now.

“Hell if I care,” Sam said stubbornly, “Not the point.”

He was quiet for a moment, not quite able to meet Dean’s eyes with his next words.

“I was worried. When I called Casey’s and he said you weren’t there. I was…”

He couldn’t bring himself to say scared. Winchesters didn’t get scared. They were the definition of laugh in the face of danger... hell, in the face of Death itself for that matter. His hands balled into fists.

In a rare show of emotion, Dean pulled Sam into his embrace, “It’s okay.” _I’m not dad. I’m nothing like him. I’m not going to show you that you have to be strong all the time. It’s okay, Sammy. It’s okay to feel._

Sam hugged Dean tight for a couple minutes.

“It’s not okay. First, Cas called and then when you didn’t answer I thought…” he pushed Dean back from him as the realization seeped in, “I...it was me. It was my fault. It wasn’t Cas on the phone. I lead that thing right to you. It could have...it could…” He couldn’t stop tears from leaking out of his eyes, so instead he turned his back on Dean, not wanting him to see him like that.

“Hey,” Dean pulled him in again, “I’m okay. Come on, little brother, you know I could’ve kicked its ass on my own.”

_It looked like Cas. You would have happily died for it._

“Not if it looked like Cas!” Sam snapped, calling him out on it. He pushed him away again. “If  Cameron hadn’t been there. It would have killed you, and that’s on me!”

“We’ve never needed anyone else. That would have been no different, Sam, you hear me?”

“It would have been different!” he retorted, realizing he sounded like he was five all over again and not caring, “Because it looked like Cas and you wouldn’t have been able to kill it and it would have killed you and I wouldn’t have been there to save you! I wasn’t there! I should have been there! As soon as Cas called I should have known something was up and came to find you! I should have known!”

“It wouldn’t have been any different,” Dean said, unsure whether he was trying to have pride in abilities that he no longer really desired, or if he was trying to fool himself, or fool Sammy. “Besides, I would’ve kicked your ass if you didn’t finish your homework. C’mon, little brother, you know Dad isn’t good at the ‘entertaining company’ thing.”

Sam knew Dean was right...that he had to suck up the tears and show face. He hated that this was the guy who saved Dean’s life. He gave him the creeps. He just seemed like he knew too much, and he was too nice, and he actually _liked_ Dad. There was something off about him. Sam shrugged, dropping the subject and nodding, “Fine.”

Dean gave him a pat on the shoulder, squeezing a little, “Hey, it’s okay, I’m okay, and we’re gonna be okay. Us against the world, Sammy.”

He didn’t give his brother a chance to respond, for fear that that, too, was starting to change as Sam got older.

The walked back into the kitchen, and this time, it was Dad telling tales. “So, I go and this thing’s got Bobby right by the throat, just lifting him right off the ground. Right? And I can't find my damn lighter! I've got the bones, the gas, the salt and no damn lighter. Damn thing fell out of my pocket when I got tackled. So, Bobby, he's red as a beet about to start turning purple when he tosses me his lighter and says, 'idjit’ I get it lit and Bobby drops like a sack of hammers. Man, that was one vengeful son of a bitch,” he concluded, taking a sip of what was now whiskey. Not that he’d needed more, even if it had just been beer.

“Wow, that's fucking amazing!” Cameron gasped, before laughing, “I guess that's why Harv was always telling me to carry a spare.”

“Ah, the old ‘lighter and the corpse’ story. Never gets old, does it, Sammy?” Dean reintroduced himself, rolling his eyes.

“You’re in a mood, boy,” John noted, “What's up your ass? Not Cas. Apparently that's half the problem, if not the whole thing. What's up between you two? You have a fight or something?”

Sam looked shocked all over again, like Dean might break into another Grease number at any moment. Even Cameron looked particularly intrigued by whatever the beer label had to offer.

To everyone’s surprise, Dean didn’t miss a beat, “We broke up,” he said flatly.

“What happened?” John asked simply.

Dean didn’t really think about how little patience he had for John anymore. It had always been ‘yes, sir’ and well, pretty much his own fault that things never really were great between them...like he doing something wrong- and John and his drinking, and abandonment was completely normal. Somehow, that didn’t slide anymore, “Does it matter?” he asked, trying, but barely, to contain the exasperation in his voice.

“Guess not,” John replied, taking another drink, “Sure you don't want that beer? Maybe something a little stronger? Sam, why don't you order us some pizzas?”

Sam picked up the cordless and dialed the number for Papa John's. Dean didn’t fail to miss that Sam had the phone number memorized.

There it was. The pity pizza. It was the closest thing they ever got to actual conversation. John couldn’t handle anything resembling being human. Dean sighed, knowing that he wasn’t going to get out of this situation as easily as he’d hoped. Why was Cameron still here?

Sam ordered three different kinds of pizzas, wings, breadsticks, Coke, hell even a pan of brownies. All the works for Dean. Sam vaguely wondered if he'd get the same treatment for his first break up, but then he was with Amber and he knew there was nothing coming between them.

The table had grown considerably more quiet now without the talk of war stories.  “I could put a movie on?” Sam offered.

“I actually have somewhere I need to be in a bit,” Dean said, trying to word himself carefully.

“Where you running off to now?” John inquired.

“Does it matter?” Dean reiterated. It wasn’t as though he asked John where he was going when he left...frequently. He didn’t really have any desire to know what monsters he was chasing, or what tail he was chasing.

“Well you oughta know that I'm headed back out tomorrow, probably before dawn, so make sure to keep an eye on your brother.”

“I can take care of myself, Dad,” Sam said stubbornly.

“Where are you running off to now?” Dean retorted.

“Watch your tone, boy,” John warned, something dangerous flashing in his eyes. He didn't need to remind Dean that he wasn't too old to get his ass beat, and that it didn't matter that they had company. “I found a case out in Utah, so it might be a couple weeks. Not sure exactly what we're dealing with yet, but the coroner reports were pretty graphic. I'll spare you the details before dinner gets here. Could be a number of things.”

“Is Uncle Bobby going too?” Sam asked.

“Nah, Bobby is sticking around so give him a call if you guys need anything. I'm heading up there with Rufus and a couple other friends. Hopefully be back before too long.”

“Taking Cameron too?” Dean joked, “Seems like you’re hitting it off well.” _Better than with his own son._

“Are you kidding me!?!” Cameron broke out in another grin, his eyes lighting up, “I'd love to go! I mean, if you have room for one more. I could be ready by dawn.”

John laughed... actually laughed. Sam shot a look of pure shock towards Dean.

“You really are a hunter at heart. Damn, kid. I mean, if you really wanted to we can always fit one more in the truck. Always can use more hands on deck, especially when we don't know what we're dealing with. Better talk to your parents first though.”

Now Cameron was laughing.

“Yeah, no worries there. No parents. I'm emancipated.”

“Alright then. Better make it five to be safe.”

“Yes, sir, I'll be ready.”

Dean was speechless. He looked from Sam, to John and Cameron.

“You alright, Dean?” Cameron asked, genuine concern in his voice, “You sure you don't want to come too? I mean I'd love to see what you can really do. You should have seen it, John. He took out a crocotta last night! I mean, I’ve never heard about them before, but Dean knew right away. I guess him and Sam have been hitting the books pretty hard while you’re away. And you should have been there to see it! He took its head off in one fell swoop! Real chip off the old block I bet, eh John?”

“Well, damn, Dean, I’m surprised you even knew how to kill it. I guess you’re not as rusty as I thought. Those few hunts we went on recently must’ve kept you sharp. Sounds like you did good kid,” John took another drink, giving him a pat on the back, “Be ready in the morning, you’re coming too.”

Sam gave another look to Dean, one that said clearly _What the fuck is even going on right now? Who the Hell is this guy?_

“I’d love to, dad,” Dean managed between the shock, “But, you know, school.”

“Ah, hell, I mean I'm sure you could take a couple days off. Get caught up when you get back. Where's your sense of adventure?”

“Sam’s science fair is coming up,” Dean said. “Someone’s gotta be here for that. Besides, sounds like you’ve got it covered.”

“Dean's been helping me with my project for weeks,” Sam chimed in with yet another lie. They always worked seamlessly to protect each other.

“Alright, well good luck on the science thing, eh Sammy? Bet you'll win first prize and everything with that big brain of yours. We'll head out with Rufus and the boys in the morning. Oh, Dean, I noticed that Baby's tires look a little low. Got to start taking better care of her, boy. I bet she's overdue for an oil change, too.”

“No, he did one just what…? Weekend before last? He showed me how do it,” Sam lied, lies on top of lies. Didn’t do anything for Dean’s guilt...because, well, he really should be doing these things with Sam- he always had before.

“I’ll swing her by the shop next time I work,” another thing Dean had been slacking on since Castiel had broken his heart. There wasn’t much of a future to save for anymore, “Bobby should have any spare parts she needs.”

“How's things been going at Bobby's? He's said you’ve been working pretty hard. Learning a lot?” John asked.

“Good. I like the work,” Dean said. He was certain John knew by now he’d rather be fixing cars than fixing humanity. It was still an honest day’s work and there were worse things he could be doing in John’s eyes.

“That's good, that's good. Help keep you busy. Maybe you should take Sam with you some time, and get some target practice with Bobby. Gotta stay sharp.”

“Well, you know, Sammy’s the brains of the operation,” Dean said. He’d never really bothered to ask Sam if he enjoyed the hunt...or if it’s what he wanted with his life. Dad had tried since he was young to pull him into the ‘family business’ and Dean had tried equally as hard to push him away from it.

“So John,” Cameron asked with a smile, “You gotta tell me if the infamous story about the djinn down in Nashville is true.”

Dean groaned, noticing it seemed to continue after his mouth closed, only to realize that Sam was also suffering. “Or, we could, y’know, talk about something else,” Dean suggested half-heartedly, almost guaranteed that the suggestion would be shut down. He found it curious that the first boy he’d developed feelings for that took him out of this ‘ideal’ that dad had established for them- was now John’s idea of what he should be. It was almost as though he couldn’t escape hunting, even with his own decisions- they always led him right back...and, in that way, he felt sorry for Cameron, too.

“Ah, Hell, Dean this is a good one,” John grinned, “Sammy, get me another bottle of Jack.”

Dad was still in the middle of ‘the good one’ when the knock came at the door. Sam jumped up, coming back with a pile of boxes.

Dean had been slowly nodding off. He hadn’t slept entirely that long at Castiel’s...and he’d heard this story enough times that he could tell it himself, complete with John’s over exaggerations. “Forgetting what other food tastes like,” he joked, looking at Cameron. There had to be more to this used-to-be-quiet and nerdy boy that he’d once had feelings for than hunting.

“Nah, pizza’s the best,” Cameron grinned, taking a huge bite of all meat, “Beats living off road snacks….or possum. If you haven't had the pleasure, I don't recommend it.” He scrunched his nose up.

“Aw, hell,” John said, “These boys’ve had the works. I remember that one winter in Vancouver hunting a vamp’s nest, got snowed in an abandoned hunter’s cabin. Lived off mouse soup. Sammy loved it,” he said, slapping Sam’s back, “Couldn’t even tell the difference.”

“Yep, hunting,” Dean said, sarcastically.

“That was mouse?” Sam asked, dropping his wing mid bite in disgust, “You didn't tell me that was mouse!”

“Well, yeah, because then you wouldn't have eaten it,” John said with a laugh.

 

* * *

 

They devoured through three pizzas, all the wings, breadsticks, and Coke. Only a couple brownies remained, and John was still discussing which road snacks were the best with Cameron that he didn't even notice Sam sneaking brownie number three. Dean opened his mouth to intervene, but quickly closed it when he watched his little brother shove half of it in his mouth in one go.

“Sam!” Dean couldn't stop himself from scolding.

“What? What's wrong?” John asked, turning away from his snack foods conversation.

“Nothing,” Dean and Sam replied at the same time.

John looked suspicious for all of a split second and then began discussing the best kind of Jerky.

When the rest of the brownies had mysteriously vanished, Sam cleaned up all the trash. Dean stretched, before heading to his room to pack his bag, just in case. He headed back out to the kitchen.

“I'm going to head out, dad. Be careful, alright?” Dean said.

“I will,” John nodded, apparently deeming that Dean had spent enough time with the family, “Check on Sammy tomorrow if you're not back tonight.”

“I will, sir,” Dean nodded back.

“...I can take care of myself…” Sam scoffed again.

“Yeah, I should head out too,” Cameron replied, ignoring Sam, stretching as he stood, “Get some sleep before we head out on the road. Pack my gear. Wait til you see the knife Harv left me with.”

“Oh, I don't doubt it's a beaut. Harv always knew how to pick 'em. Not so much with the ladies. Anyway. Get your gear, plenty of rest. I'll get gas and snacks before I pick you up. I've got us down for coffee and honey buns in the morning, pork rinds, Ritz bits with cheese, Snickers, and I'll even get you some of that stupid sweet and hot jerky. You can't beat original jerky.”

“Yes, sir,” Cameron replied with a grin, “Can't wait, John. See ya, Sam.”

He joined Dean by the door.

“Boy,” John added, and Dean knew it was intended for him, “You be careful too, ya hear?”

Dean nodded again, “See ya Sammy. Don't do anything I wouldn't do. And eat something besides pizza and chocolate tomorrow!”

“I can't eat chocolate. We're out of fudge poptarts,” Sam said defensively.

“I'll pick them up on my way home,” Dean said with a look.

“And the s'mores kind? And wildberry too?” Sam asked excitedly.

“Two,” Dean said shortly.

“Three,” Sam prodded.

“Fine, whatever. But save me some next time. I didn't even get to try one.”

“Oh and Lucky Charms, too, please,” Sam added, knowing he was pushing it now.

“What? I _just_ bought some before I left. Literally, yesterday,” Dean snapped.

“I was hungry,” Sam shrugged, innocently.

“Probably about to hit a growth spurt,” Dad offered, pulling another beer out, “Tell Bobby to restock the beer while you're grocery shopping.”

“Hear that, Dean?” Sam teased, “I'm growing! All the Lucky Charms and poptarts I want! I bet I'll be even taller than you!”

“Yeah right,” Dean rolled his eyes, “Only in the gut. Even if you did, I'd still be able to kick your ass, bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sam smiled.

“Be good,” Dean said opening the door and letting Cameron out first before following and locking the door behind him.

He rounded on Cameron immediately. “What the hell was that?”

“What do you mean?

“That! Coming over here. Talking to my Dad? How the hell did you even know my address?”

“Dean, I killed a crocotta last night. Finding an address in Sioux Falls is not difficult,” he answered, “Should I _not_ talk to your Dad?”

“He's an asshole! And what was all that about me killing the Crocotta, anyway? You were the one who killed it. Why did you lie?”

“It got your Dad to stop bitching didn't it?” He shrugged.

“That's not for you…”

“See you found your bag that I brought back from Casey's for you. Figured when you didn't come back that you'd just kinda forgot about it.”

Dean closed his mouth, shutting up. He hadn’t even realized that the bag had been missing. “Thanks,” he said, in a rare moment of being caught off-guard that he hadn’t really had since Cameron had randomly shown up. Something about the situation made him tense. He figured it was probably just that his two worlds were converging in a way that he hadn’t wanted them to. Hunting was hunting. Dating was dating. They were two very different versions of himself. No one could deny it would be unsettling to see your ex in a world that you didn’t really talk to anyone about. It was like a bad rom-com meets action movie where the hero works for the FBI and lives a totally secret life, only to find out later that the romantic interest has been working for the FBI the entire time, too. Or, maybe that was a _Sherlock Holmes_ plot. Something. Point remained the same.

“You’re welcome,” Cameron shrugged. He paused for a moment, “You know, we should really hang out sometime. I mean, even without Casey. Still have a lot of catching up to do.”

Dean almost laughed. They really did know nothing about each other anymore. “More like a reintroduction,” he said, “You’re not the nerdy kid in the closet any more.”

Cameron grinned, “No, definitely not. To either of those things.”

“It’s kind of a shame,” Dean teased.

“Yeah, I know,” Cameron agreed, “You have a type.”

Dean took the flirty comment with a grain of salt, dishing it back out, “Well, I mean, you’re the one who said we weren’t going to write letters or make phone calls.”

“Yeah, but, didn’t say anything about running into each other. Doesn’t that kind of break the pact?”

“More like cheating,” Dean shrugged again, opening the door to Baby, and throwing his bag inside. She really was looking a little worse for wear. His heart sank.

“Hunters generally don’t play by the rules,” Cameron said, “Besides, I was a stupid kid back then, and I thought I’d never see you again. I mean, what were the chances?”

“Yeah, it’s crazy,” Dean agreed, “Figured you’d get out of Selby with that brain of yours...didn’t think it’d be here, or like this.”

“Better this than ignorance. I’m good at this.”

Dean wasn’t going to deny it, but he didn’t want to talk about it again, either.“Look, man, I get it. Hunting is exciting and thrilling and it’s great to have a sense of accomplishment. My dad’s a bit notorious for losing hunting buddies, or getting them in a jam. Besides, it’s kind of, I don’t know, weird. Shouldn’t you be in school? I’m trying to save you the headache.”

“It's the weekend,” Cameron replied, “Besides, haven't really been much about school, at all really. I dropped out when Gram died. Didn't really see much of a point. I'll be fine, Dean.”

“Suit yourself,” Dean shrugged, shutting the door to the Impala, “Probably make a better kid for him than I could, anyway. Just watch your back. Letters and phone calls aside, now that you’re here, would kind of suck if you went and got your ass killed since you went through all that effort.”

“I'll be careful. Always am. Besides I could use a good kill. Take the edge off,” Cameron climbed into the pickup, “Hey, Dean?”

“Yeah?” Dean asked, brushing his hair away from his face as he ducked into the Impala.

“You be careful too, alright? I know you still care about him a lot, but just don't get yourself hurt, again,” then he added, “Oh, and if you get a call in the middle of the night you call me for backup, okay? I'll come.”

“Yeahhh,” Dean drug the word on, still half-sticking out of the car, “I’m kind of hoping to never do that again. But, thanks for the offer.”

“Any time,” Cameron replied and Limp Bizkit's _Break Stuff_ started blaring before he began to pull away, “By the way, this is twice I’ve had to save your ass.”

 

* * *

  


By the time Dean arrived at Castiel’s, he was nearly 40 minutes late. His arms were full with a couple bags from the grocery store to make yet another pizza. Instead of climbing through the window, he knocked with the toe of his boot.

“Dean?” Castiel asked, opening the door, a little surprised. He took a bag of groceries, heading for the kitchen, “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten.”

Castiel sat the bags down, next to his own various groceries, pulling them out of bags. Yeast. He looked at his pre-made pizza crusts, blushing. Of course Dean was going to make them from scratch. He tried to stealthily put them away.

 _Like I could ever forget you._ “No...uh…” Dean said, beginning to unpack bags. Now he was thinking about how comfortable he was, always. It was like they’d been together forever, and now, it was like fighting the pull of gravity when they were magnets. “...dad’s home, actually.”

“Oh,” Castiel replied, understanding washing over him, as well as a little surprise, “I’m surprised you managed to get away at all. He usually takes you out on a hunt when he gets back,” he said, a little bitterly, “I’m glad you came.”

“Oh, he tried,” Dean said.

“What changed his mind?”

“That’s...a funny story, actually,” Dean said, pulling down a large mixing bowl, and finding the flour, “Remember the guy I told you about, from Selby? Cameron?”

Of course Castiel remembered Cameron. Dean’s first love, Dean’s first kiss...was that the guy? They did say you never quite forgot your first love. “Yeah?” he said, weakly, wishing he didn’t have to still try so hard to brace himself for pain.

“So, get this…” he started, before he considered that this might be a bit of an awkward conversation. So much had happened in the little amount of time it had been since they’d broken up. “I uh...I went out, to...to, you know, clear my head for a bit…” _To try and get away from how bad losing you still hurts._ “Hang out with some old friends. Turns out Cameron moved to Sioux Falls and made friends with the same crowd. I had no idea. And, weirder still, he’s a hunter.” He paused. He’d given up too much information already, and now it was bound to come out. “I...had a bit of a run in with a monster last night. He showed up and kind of saved my ass.”

_Saved his ass? Oh God, is he ok? I guess that explains why he was acting the way he was last night._

“A monster? Are you alright? What happened?” He blurted out a lot faster than he'd intended.

“It was nothing,” he lied, badly, “Just a little off my game is all.”

“Dean, tell me the truth,” Castiel pleaded, “It wasn't just 'nothing’. You came over last night and you were scared out of your mind. You were shaking. Just tell me what happened. All of it. From the beginning.”

He couldn’t deny Castiel. He couldn’t just shove him out of the world he’d wormed his way into with his caring, and love. Dean sighed, “Have you ever heard of a crocotta?”

“The mythical dog-wolf of India? That exists too? And it's in Sioux Falls, because that's a far cry from India,” Castiel asked holding up the two different pizza sauces, weighing them in for Dean's decision.

“I...uh, yeah,” Dean said, wondering why he was surprised still at how smart Castiel was “...was. It was in Sioux Falls,” Dean corrected gently, shaking his head, and pulling out fresh tomatoes from a bag instead.

“So, where's this cow at? The one you're gonna use to make your own cheese next,” Castiel teased, holding up just mozzarella and an Italian cheese blend. He held the Italian blend up a little higher.

“Both?” Dean asked, grinning, “So...yeah, crocotta in Sioux Falls,” Dean tried to conclude.

“Is that common? I feel like that’s not a very common thing for around here,” Castiel replied, his usual worried expression returning. “Also, do you want the little diced pepperoni or slices? Also, I bought Italian ground sausage and spicy. Wasn't sure what you were in the mood for.”

“No. It isn’t. We can use all of it,” Dean said, stepping around Castiel and so close he could feel the other boy’s breath as he reached up for a large mixing bowl,comfortably from memory- to begin to assemble the dough. “450 should do.”

“I know, it's on,” Castiel smiled, hating how his voice went up just a little, his breath hitching a little in response. He wanted to take a step back, put some breathing room between them, but he couldn't bring himself to move.

Dean pulled back, setting the bowl down next to the flour and yeast, and measuring cups, letting them clatter on the counter as they locked eyes.

“What do you want me to do?” Castiel asked, swallowing hard. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Dean's. _He's so close. He smells so good. Oh God, what am I even thinking? We're... supposed to be studying._

“Uh...you can…” Dean tried, unable to think from how badly he just wanted to kiss Castiel, “… Music… Uh… You can put on music.”

Dean couldn’t help but think that it had been mere months ago that they had been happy, and had made his parent’s house feel as though it were a home just for them. The ghosts of them dancing together, the world at their feet after every step were haunting him, making this forced separation almost unbearable. It was that day here that they had danced to the Beach Boys, that Dean had realized that he wanted to spend his life with Cas. And, while almost everything else had changed- that hadn’t. They could have a home like this...it would be almost too easy.

“Alright,” Castiel said, creating quick distance between them, “I’ll be right back.”

He didn’t return with the Beach Boys or the best of Zeppelin. The mix CD that he put in first began playing _Last Dance With Mary Jane_. It was obvious Mrs. Novak had been the last one to cook in the kitchen...it was quiet. Dean and Castiel were notorious for blaring music, sometimes until Anna complained and threatened them with calling Cas’ parents.

“Shit,” Dean said, stopping kneading the elbow-deep dough suddenly, disappointment creeping over his features.

“What?” Castiel asked, eyes widening.

“...The dough needs to prove. It’ll be at least an hour.” It was a small thing, and he shouldn’t have felt such an overwhelming disappointment, but, at the same time, he remained aware that in the wrestling ring for Castiel’s heart, Balthazar had caterers and money, things Dean just couldn’t compete with.

“Well, that’s okay. It’ll give us time to prep the other stuff. The sausage needs to cook, both kinds,” Castiel was still sifting through the ingredients. “Looks like we’ve also got two kinds of pepperoni, ham, salami, bacon, and oh I got some wings to go with it. I mean, they’re not homemade but...oh and you said you wanted to make sauce from scratch. See lots to do while it proves. I’ll...umm...I can cook the sausage? I trust you more with bacon. You’re kinda the expert. Good thing Sam’s not here. We might not have any to actually put on the pizza.”

Dean held up three bags that were on the side. Through the clear plastic, Castiel could see bacon, Lucky Charms, Pop Tarts, and Spaghetti O’s. “He’s got his own.  Hand me the knife?”

Dean couldn’t help but stare as Castiel turned to the drawer, following the motions of his body, and fighting the natural urge to snake an arm around his waist, “And the pot,” he said softly, still transfixed with the boy his heart still belonged to.

“Anyway,” he said, trying to shake the urges, “When I got home, Cameron was there talking to my dad about hunting. And now, they’re going out together. Better him than me, but still. I mean, this guy was...quiet, shy. And now, he’s the son my dad always wanted, not to mention a bit of an arrogant dick.”

Castiel handed Dean the knife before pulling out a pot as well as three pans for the sausage and bacon. He set the pot and pans on the stove. “Really? Why's he a dick? I mean...you know, what is it he does that is dickish?”

Dean began absent-mindedly chopping tomatoes, and basil, throwing them in the pot to simmer as he explained, “Was ‘he’s the son my dad always wanted’ not a good explanation? He views humans as collateral damage in the war against the supernatural..it’s not a good outlook on life.”

“Oh,” Castiel said softly, “That ah...well I mean that does kinda make him a bit of a dick. I mean is there anything at all that you still like about the guy? You were close once. And he can’t be all bad. You said he saved your ass, so apparently all humans aren’t collateral damage.”

He went to open the sausage and stopped before adding, “Do you want me to put Sam’s bacon in the fridge until you head out? So it doesn’t go bad?”

“Yeah, please. And...I mean...civilians, Cas. The crocotta takes the image of a human. He didn’t hesitate.” Dean jumped back a little as the sauce bubbled up. He turned the heat down, adding a little cider vinegar and garlic, and some oregano.

“But...he knew it was a monster, right? I mean...it’s not like he’d just kill a person. Even hunters have rules about that stuff. Don’t they?” Castiel asked, putting the bacon in the fridge and starting the sausages up.

“Looked like a person to me,” Dean muttered under his breath, before cutting open the bacon and starting it frying.

“Did it look like somebody you knew? I read once that they could do that,” Castiel asked, giving both sausages a stir.

“Ah...no,” Dean said, taken aback before trying to recover, “Just a human.”

Castiel remembered exactly what the article had said now. _It takes the form of whoever you care for most. Is that why he came here last night? Why he was so freaked out? Was it…?_

“Was it me?” Castiel asked quietly.

Dean paused, and it was enough to answer Castiel’s question whether he’d wanted to or not.

Castiel kept trying not to picture exactly what he might look like dead, or what Dean did in that moment, but he was failing. _It was me that he saw. He...he’s still in love with me..._

“Dean? Your bacon is burning.”

“Oh,” Dean said absently, turning the stove down before daring to look up. He was turning pale as if he’d seen a ghost. In actuality, he was remembering the visions of his nightmares- Castiel splayed on the ground, dead and lifeless. He felt sick and forced himself to swallow a bit of bile. “Sorry,” he began piling burned bacon on paper towels.

“I like burnt bacon,” Castiel tried to soothe, “When my Dad cooks it he always burns it.”

“Sam tried to make me breakfast once and ended up burning it. I actually woke up to the sound of the smoke detectors,” Dean replied, trying to partake in the conversation while still trying to shake the image of his love, all out of sunshine. _And now the bacon._ _I can’t even do this right. I just ruin everything I touch._

“It’s hard to picture Sam cooking...anything. Was it your birthday?” Castiel laughed a little trying to joke with him again.

_Father’s day, actually. He thought I had forgotten what day it was._

“Something like that,” Dean replied, taking the sauce off the burner.

They finished the prep work, Castiel with the sausages...Dean with, well, nearly everything else. When he checked the dough again, it was ready to mold.

Dean began to work the dough, spreading it out onto a pizza pan. It almost didn’t fit. Next Dean carefully ladled sauce across it and Castiel followed behind him with cheese. They worked seamlessly as always adding both pepperonis and both sausages, salami, ham, extra crunchy bacon, finishing the crust with a garlic butter.

“It needs….something…” Dean frowned as they stood back to admire their masterpiece, “I’m thinking...more cheese maybe?”

“I used it all,” Castiel said a little sadly, before lighting up, “Wait! I think my mom has some!”

He went over to the fridge digging around in the drawer, “It looks like all we have is Mexican four cheese.”

“Sure, let’s toss it on. It’s all cheese anyway, right?” Dean broke out in a smile, “Can’t go wrong with that. This is gonna be the best pizza ever.”

“Oh! I almost forgot the wings!” Castiel said, excitedly pulling them out of the freezer. He dumped the entire bag onto the cookie sheet that Dean had pulled out for him. They tossed it all into the oven- pizza on top, wings on bottom.

After tossing all the dishes in the sink and picking up the kitchen a bit they moved into the living room. “I mean, we could get started on homework while we wait. Start with some…” Castiel stopped looking around, “Dean... Where are your books?”

“Shit,” Dean swore with an exasperated sigh, “I was in such a hurry to get the hell out of there... I forgot them.”

“It’s okay...you can borrow mine and we can share and…” he saw the look on Dean’s face and shrugged, giving in, like he almost always had when they were together, “Movie? I mean...at least while we’re eating? And then we’re so studying...like extra studying.”

“Alright,” _baby._ It almost slipped out so easily, right on the tip of his tongue. They’d had that conversation enough times that it could nearly be scripted. “What movie?”

“How about…” Castiel browsed the large bookcase in the living room full of his parents’ movies, “ _The Crow, Pulp Fiction, Goodfellas, Edward Scissorhands_? Anything?”

Dean rustled around in the bag he had bought, priorities clear. Homework forgotten, movie store had not been. “How about this?” He held up Drew Barrymore’s new movie _Never Been Kissed_ , “Don’t give me that look, I know she’s your favorite, and we never got around to seeing it in theatres.”

“She’s not my favorite…” Castiel muttered, putting the movie on.

“Yes, she is,” Dean whispered, nearly silently.

They watched the previews while the food cooked. When the timer went off, both boys stood in front of the oven, marvelling at the monster they had created. It had expanded off the pizza pan. It was huge, and the crust was bubbly, still sizzling with the garlic butter. Cheese threatened to drip off the sides, and with it was a ton of grease. It was enough to make Dean think they could give Domino’s a run for their money.

“It’s…” Castiel started- hard to tell if he was amazed or appalled, maybe a bit of both.

“Beautiful,” Dean finished, taking it out and setting it beside the wings on the stove.

They made a couple of messy looking plates, piled high, grabbed a couple of Cokes and headed into the living room.

“Dude!” Dean exclaimed, barely managing to hold up a piece of pizza without losing the toppings, “Did you see that. Star Wars! We HAVE to go- and Sam and Amber too-” he was so excited about the nerdy movie that he didn’t even realize he’d essentially just told Cas that they were going on a date.

“Oh my God! Yes! We have to go see it! I love the originals!” Castiel agreed. Dean smiled.

They started the movie and took a bite of pizza at the same time.

“Oh my god,” they said in unison, as Dean closed his eyes, appreciating his handiwork. It wasn't the first time he’d considered that he and Cas could probably make it with a bed and breakfast and some home cooked food. Without Cas in the picture, it was just as likely to be a bar.

When nothing but the skeleton of the pizza remained, they got comfortable. Castiel was too immersed in the movie to even think about homework- or, where he was sitting for that matter. Dean had propped up, half laying at the edge of the couch, back on the armrest- and, somewhere along the way, Castiel found himself lying on his chest, nestled between his legs- unsure of whether Dean had pulled him there, or he’d went willingly.

Dean, on the other hand, had watched it happen, and had been trying to keep his urges to himself. They were innocent enough- he just wanted to hold him. They’d done it a thousand times. _Even before we were dating. And he’s distracted. I could… I could just wrap him up...and...and I could ruin everything. Dammit, Cas._

“You look like that when you’re drunk,” Dean whispered half-against Cas’ ear and hair as he laughed. The main character, Josie, had just unknowingly consumed a pot brownie.

“Dean! I do not!” Castiel shoved playfully, blushing.

Dean seized the moment, pulling Castiel back down, into his embrace. He only expected to be pushed away a little bit. Their bodies knew each other too well, and he wasn’t surprised to feel Castiel settle into his arms instead, losing tension.

“Do so,” Dean retorted, tickling him just a little.

Castiel squirmed, feeling himself growing a little hard and blushing more, nearly holding his breath when Dean’s hand settled on his waist.

_You love me, Cas. If you’d just remember, we could have it all again- you and me, always you and me._

Castiel adjusted just a little so that his ear was against Dean’s chest. He liked listening to his heartbeat, his finger tapping the familiar rhythm out without even thinking. Dean smelled so good, cologne mixed with faded deodorant and sweat. It felt so good to be in his arms again, and a part of him felt guilty for even thinking it. _We’re...we’re just friends now. It’s just that it’s comforting._

Dean recognized the gesture, and before he could think, he took Castiel’s hand in his, entwining their fingers. It was a feeling of warmth, and of familiarity, and yes, even some of the fireworks they talk about in chick flicks. He felt warmer still, as Castiel squeezed back, surprised, but not shying away.

“Dean,” Castiel whispered, turning a little to look into his eyes. There was love there. Maybe that should have upset him more than it did. As it was, close as they were, Castiel wanted them closer still.

Dean was baffled that all the while he imagined Castiel’s stunningly blue eyes, maybe he hadn’t gotten them entirely right in his memory. They were oceans, deep ponds, clear lakes with the sky reflecting in them. He realized he was staring, and a faint blush spilled across his cheeks and over his freckles, but still, he couldn’t look away, and neither, it seemed, could Castiel.

If they were a fraction closer, they’d be touching. And, it was so hard not to touch with a nearly magnetic pull between them. So close they could feel each other’s warm breath on the other’s lips. The gap was unbearable, and Dean closed it first, “You’re so beautiful, Cas.” Dean’s hand was on his cheek, his lips pressing tenderly to Castiel’s. He watched as a shudder went down his beloved’s spine.

Castiel was, in fact, trembling from anticipation, and guilt, and lust...and, worst of all, love. _Dean, oh god...we can’t Dean. We can’t._

The sound that left his lips was an entirely different opinion. When they pulled apart, Castiel didn’t know what to say as he searched Dean’s eyes for just a moment before pulling him in for another kiss. Worked better for ‘more’ than any word alone could.

“Mm,” Dean let the noise escape, surprised for only a moment before he pulled Castiel into his arms, letting him straddle his lap. He was the one to pull away this time. His lips pressed into Castiel’s neck, “I love you, Cas.” He needed to say it, needed Castiel to hear it, and more important, he meant it. But, he knew Castiel couldn’t say it back...wouldn’t. His mouth found his sunshine’s again, relieving it of the option to deny him the words.

 _I never stopped, Dean. I love you too...how did we get into this mess?_ Instead of admitting any of these things, he began re-committing Dean to memory- the taste of his kiss, the caress of his tongue, the feeling of Dean’s strong muscles beneath his fingertips. _Has he always been this strong?_

Castiel gasped as Dean’s fingers knotted into his hair, pulling. They were both breathing harder now- high on a once-in-a-lifetime love that they’d been lucky enough to find.

Dean rocked up, moaning when he realized that Castiel was just as hard as him, needing relief. He rocked again, this time using his weight to press Castiel down into the couch, where his arms immediately went around Dean’s neck, rocking his hips in a grind against Dean’s. It was never enough- he always needed more of Dean, and Dean was only too eager to please.

He’d already reached between them, unbuttoning and unzipping Castiel’s jeans until his hand could slip under the waistband of his boxer-briefs, wrapping around his lover’s leaking cock. He couldn’t have helped the lust escaping his lips into Castiel’s mouth if he tried.

“Dean,” Castiel moaned, breaking away from their kiss, starting to flush. Dean had almost forgotten how adorable and impatient Cas could be, working on Dean’s button and zipper as well.

Dean almost whimpered, “Cas,” he exhaled, rocking his hips into Castiel’s grasp, “ _Baby…_ ”

Castiel’s heart fluttered to his throat, his grip around Dean tightening in response. They began wrestling their pants down together, always impatiently. Castiel’s fingers ran over every area of Dean’s skin that was exposed. When he reached Dean’s cock again, Dean shuddered a breath in, before pushing Castiel back into the couch. He sank down, wrapping his lips around Castiel’s cock, sucking eagerly and moaning at the familiar sweet taste.

Castiel had forgotten how well Dean knew his body- how he could read into the slightest shiver, or a tiny hitched breath. Within minutes, Castiel’s legs were shaking, and he couldn’t let it be over so soon. His hand rested on Dean’s cheek, pulling him back and looking into his eyes. “Dean, stop.”

Dean’s eyes were shimmering with...something...love, or lust, probably a combination of both. His body was on fire, and ‘stop’ was the last thing he wanted to hear. Their eyes locked, and Dean questioned him silently.

“I need you, Dean,” he said shakily. He didn't need to say anything more. Dean knew exactly what he meant. He always did.

 _I’m yours_ was also an unspoken truth between them. The world washed away in moments like this.

Dean grabbed his bag from the floor, not wanting to get up, he drug it over by his fingernails, managing to unzip the front pocket. He didn’t think to ask ‘are you sure?’ because they were in love. Because he’d finally said that he needed him. Because he loved him.

He rummaged in the front pocket until he grabbed a travel-sized bottle of lube that he’d always kept there, just in case. Though, admittedly, Cas was the only ‘just in case’. Dean didn’t want anyone else. He’d almost taken it out to make a little extra room, and was now glad he hadn’t.

He worked as quickly as he could- afraid that Castiel would forget their love, and change his mind. They needed this- Castiel needed this, Dean thought- the connection between them had always been so much more than primal- and if he could remind him of that...maybe they’d have half a chance...if Cas could only remember.

When he was finally pressing into Castiel, he couldn’t help but swear, “Fuck…” he moaned, “Cas….” He was tighter than Dean remembered, it almost seemed like their first time again.

“Oh God, Dean,” Castiel cried out, gripping into the couch tightly. His hips jerked beneath Dean's fingertips. It had been so long, so very long since he'd felt this. It wasn’t like this with Balthazar, this kind of fire. Only Dean. His body was shaking violently already.

It was bordering on reckless. They had rarely left the bedroom for this when they’d been together. Now, they were in the middle of the living room, breathing obscenities at each other, as Dean found his rhythm, grinding into Castiel, lips on his still, almost more focused on passionate kisses than rough, slow thrusts.

Castiel’s lips worked frantically against Dean’s, between pants for breath. His hips met Dean’s thrusts needily. His fingers wove into Dean’s hair, tugging at his roots. “Dean…”

The sound of his name on his loved one’s lips sent Dean spiraling, thrusting harder as he gripped into Castiel’s back to stable himself. An ‘I love you’ would have sent him over. The words were on the edge of his own tongue, stopped only by the kisses.

“Cas…”Dean groaned, head falling back, managing to stabilize himself enough to wrap a hand around Castiel’s cock, pumping, desperate for Castiel to finish first. He could at least do that right for him. He couldn’t help notice Castiel’s precome pooling on his stomach. He was close.

“Oh God, Dean!” Castiel moaned loudly again, begging, “Say it again! Please! Say it again!”

Dean dipped down, teeth grazing Castiel’s earlobe as he kept thrusting, stroking in rhythm, “Castiel,” he moaned, his breath hot against his sunshine’s ear.

“Dean!” Castiel cried out, abandoning his grip on the couch and clinging to Dean's shoulders instead, “Fuck Dean! Oh my God! Oh my God!”

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you,” Dean panted, pulling Cas into his lap, kissing him again as they rocked. They were both so close...so close...

The phone rang.

Both boys stopped moving, the room filling with silence save for the ringing. First one, two and three.

Castiel’s blood ran cold as the machine picked up. It had to be his parents checking in, or Anna...or, worse.

“Hi, you’ve reached the Novaks: Chuck, Alice, Anna and Castiel...we’re not home right now...leave a message and we’ll call you back…” there was a brief pause, and Castiel could be heard in the background, “Mom, I was wondering if…”

A beep followed. Both Dean and Castiel held their breath.

“Hey, Cassie, it’s me. I wanted to let you know that my flight from Brussels got in early, so I’m on my way back to the manor tonight. I missed you. See you soon, love, okay? Bye.”

 _Love._  Dean’s eyes stayed locked on Castiel’s, willing the moment to pass...for everything to go in the direction they’d been working toward all evening instead of the swift u-turn Dean felt coming, destination: Balthazar Roche.

Castiel’s insides were cold as ice but his face was heating up. He sat nearly perfectly still, mortified, and ashamed of himself. His thoughts raced. _What am I doing? What have I done? I can't believe I could fucking do this._

“Dean... stop,” Castiel whispered, unable to look at him, tears welling up in his eyes.

Dean’s voice softened, heartbreak in his gentle words, “C’mon, Cas…” _You love me. You know you love me._

“Dean... I…,” Castiel swallowed hard, tears starting to freefall from his blue eyes, “I can't. I just can't. I'm sorry.”

_Fuck, I'm such a fuck up. I've ruined things with both of them now. I wasn't trying to hurt Balthazar or lead Dean on. I'm just a fucking whore. I just fuck everything up. What's wrong with me?_

Dean wanted to argue, to encourage them to keep going- not for himself by any means, he wasn’t nearly that selfish...but, for Castiel. For that moment of pleasure, and the peace after. Instead, he found himself pulling out with as little awkwardness as he could, fastening his pants as Castiel did the same, going through the motions. Dean scooped him into his arms, knowing that the tears wouldn’t stop before they fell harder.

“Dean... don't…” Castiel said softly as the tears spilled down his cheeks.

“Stop,” Dean said softly, goosebumps on his skin, “Stop telling me not to love you. Just...stop it, okay? Stop pushing me away, Cas. Stop.” He used his shirt to wipe at the tears on Castiel’s face.

“Dean I…” Castiel couldn’t help but grip onto Dean’s shirt. “I never should have done this. What's wrong with me?” he shuddered.

It wasn’t the right time or place, but the words had been stuffed behind Dean’s lips for too long, “You still love me.” Even he was surprised at the bluntness of the answer.

Castiel's jaw dropped a little. His mouth stood agape for a moment, speechless. “I...I...how can you say that to me? I…I…”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” he asked, “I love you, too...you know that, you have to know that.”

“Dean, we can't. We can't keep doing this,” Castiel replied, more tears streaking his cheeks. “I didn't mean for this to happen. I'm sorry, Dean. It's all my fault.”

“That’s not an answer, Cas. Just stop,” he said, pulling Castiel’s face back to look at him, wiping tears with his hands, “You’re the only person I want to do this with, Cas. I want us to love, and I want us to fight, and I want us to get through it because we’re better than that. What we have is more than that. I want you. I don’t care what baggage you lay at my feet, Cas- don’t do this. The movies you love, the stories you love...we can have that. We…” he looked right into Castiel’s eyes, “We already have that.”

The words from the letter swirled in his head, _our happily ever after._ His breath caught in his chest. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. More tears poured from his eyes. “We don't. And we can't have that, Dean. We can never have that. I should never have let this happen. I wasn't thinking. I wasn't trying to lead you on or anything. And Balthazar? I've hurt him too. After everything he's done for me. I've fucked everything up.”

“Everything he’s done for you?” Dean’s voice suddenly dropped to an arctic temperature, “He took advantage of you and now you feel like you fucking _owe_ him something? What we have, what we had, you’ll never find it with him and you _know_ it. Does he kiss you like I do, Cas? Does he make you FEEL like I do? Don’t lie to me. You know this is right. What I don’t know is why the hell you keep fighting it.”

“You're right,” Castiel said, getting angry now, “He doesn't make me feel like you do. He's never hurt me the way you did! Never! Not once! He didn't take advantage of me, I knew what I was doing, just like I knew what I was doing tonight. I would never say you were taking advantage of me, because it wouldn't be true. I'm just fucked up. I fucked up bad. And yeah, I do owe him a hell of a lot more than this. You're right Dean, you know that? I _am_ still in love with you, and it kills me because I don't know how to stop. I've tried, tried so fucking hard. I hate that you can hurt me so bad and I still feel...in love with you. That's not okay. I may never have what we had with him, but I won't have it with you either. We can never get that back.”

“Which is a real damn shame, Castiel,” Dean said, less civally than he’d intended,  “Because one day, you’re going to realize that I never did anything to you. You can’t break us over something that never happened. Do you know how crazy that sounds?” He regretted the word the second it slipped out of his mouth. “Cas...I didn’t mean…”

“I AM NOT CRAZY!” Castiel screamed, livid, “How could you say that to me!?! I know what the fuck I saw! I didn't just imagine it! I wasn't seeing things! I didn't wake up one morning and rattle my crazy beans around my head and think, 'you know what would be great? Breaking up with the boy I love...for no apparent reason at all.’ No. It happened. I can't believe you! I'm not crazy! You're fucking crazy!”

“I wasn’t with anybody!!” Dean yelled with such emotion his voice actually squeaked a little, “I wanted us. Wanted you. What kind of idiot do you think I am, Cas?” _The one that still wants you after you slept with someone else and chose them over me, again and again._

“I think you're a big idiot! But what the fuck do I know? I'm _crazy_ , remember?” Castiel spat, venomously.

“Y’know what? You want me to admit to something I never did. You broke our relationship over NOTHING,” Dean said, voice still raised, “That’s pretty fucking crazy, Cas.”

Castiel seriously contemplated smacking him, and it took everything in him not to. “I am not fucking crazy, Dean,” Castiel said, the words sounding crazy even in his own ears, “I might be a lot of fucking things. Terrible things. But I'm not crazy.”

“I can only name one terrible thing.. You’re wrong. About me. About us. You’re wrong.”

“I’m a cheater. A fucking whore. All I do is break everyone's trust. Break everything I touch. I'm fucking pathetic. I'm worse than pathetic. I'm nothing. Just this... horrible fucking person. I don't know how I let it get this bad. I should never have gotten up off that bathroom floor.” With each word came more tears. He was still full of anger but now it was for himself, not Dean.

Dean grabbed Castiel, despite being pissed at him still, holding him tightly in a protective embrace as though he could still shield him, “Don’t you ever fucking say that to me.” His hand pressed against the back of Castiel’s hair, both soothing him and keeping him from rash movements. “Ever.”

“It's true,” Castiel struggled against him, not wanting to melt into his embrace and get lost in his comfort once more. “I don't deserve what I have, after everything I've done. If I hadn't gotten up then none of this would have happened. I wouldn't just keep hurting people. I'm not a good person. That part of me died a long time ago.”

“Bad decisions don’t make you a bad person, Cas,” Dean said, near to tears hearing such self-loathing come from the boy he loved.

“It does,” Castiel insisted, “I'm bad, Dean. I'm a bad person. There's something wrong with me. No matter how hard I try, I always end up fucking up.”

“That’s because we aren’t a fuck up,” Dean whispered, “You’re not a bad person. You're just...wrong.”

“Yes, I am,” Castiel kept insisting, “We can't keep doing this, Dean. God, I can't believe I did this to him.”

Dean was baffled, and had to work not to yell again. “What about you? What about me? What makes him deserve happiness above us?”

 _I can't. I can't go through this again. I can't give you another chance to hurt me. We're not good together._ “We never should have done this in the first place. It can't happen again.” Castiel wasn’t sure whether he was working to convince Dean or himself.

“Would it still have been him...would it still be him if you found out I was telling the truth...or was it really all a lie?”

“Dean how can you ask me that?” Tears formed in his eyes again and he brushed them away quickly, “How could you?”

“Because I _am_ telling you the truth. And I don’t want to lose you. Nothing is worth that, Cas. I can’t. I can’t just be your friend.”

“Maybe it was too soon for this. Hanging out I mean. Maybe we just need some time apart. Maybe after enough time has passed we can go back to hanging out. We just need some space.”

“I’m never going to stop loving you.”

“But you'll find someone else. If we just give it some time. You'll find someone else and it'll get better. We can go back to being friends.”

“I don’t want anyone else, Castiel. I never have. You can’t even tell me what our friendship would look like. You love me too.”

“I can't Dean. I can't love you. It hurts so bad.”

“Loving me isn’t painful. It’s the easiest thing. It’s trying not to that hurts, Cas. Why can’t you just see that we’re better together?”

“You hurt me Dean, and it still hurts. And I hate myself for still loving you. I hate how hard everything is and how much all of it just...hurts.”

“Why don’t you just listen to me?” Dean sighed, “Look at me and tell me I’m lying.”

Castiel jumped up angrily, “If it wasn't you then who? How did all that shit just magically end up in your room? Sam? Your Dad? Because I've been through all the scenarios and every single one of them is more outrageous than the last.”

“I don’t know what you saw. There was nothing there...and if there was, who’s to say Balthazar wasn’t trying to seduce you by ruining us? I was hunting, Cas. You were there when my dad came for me. When would I have had time? How selfish do you think I am?”

“How dare you! He doesn't even know where you live, Dean! What would he have done anyway? Knocked on your front door and said 'excuse me Sam I'm here on important business?’ Your dad did come get you. Maybe it happened before, and you just didn't have time to pick up your mess for once.”

“...Cas, it was your birthday. I hadn’t been home that day, or the day before. How am I supposed to know what he’s capable of!? All I know is that I come back and you’ve slept with him and you’re leaving me...quite honestly I don’t know what I belie-”

The doorbell rang.

Castiel's heart stopped dead. He tiptoed to the door and looked through the peephole. His blood turned to ice again.

“It's Balthazar,” he whispered, panicked.

Dean stood up, features darkening as he swept into a bow, “Don’t mind me,” he muttered, “Guess I should get used to second place. Bye, Cas.”

Dean grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder, grabbing Sam’s breakfast foods from the kitchen and walking out the back.

_How did it come to this? How dare he tell me to find someone else- and make excuses for why that prick is better than me? How dare he blame me for this mess? Fuck. Fuck. You cruel bastard. All this just so you can live a comfortable life…_

_When did you become so cold, sunshine?_

He slipped out into the rain. Seemed like it rained every time his heart was dying within him. Just another thing he’d have to get used to.

 

* * *

  


“Hey love,” Balthazar stood beneath a large umbrella, the black SUV and Hershal waiting in the drive. He held a white rose in his hand.

Castiel already looked a wreck.His face was flush, his eyes were red from crying, his cheeks stained with dried tears. Now, fresh ones were forming in his eyes. “Hey,” he couldn't hide the sad tremor in his voice.

Balthazar let himself in, the scent of pizza lingering, the movie scrolling through the credits, blanket askew on the couch- two plates and glasses on the coffee table, “Oh, Cassie,” Balthazar said, features dropping.

“Balthazar, I'm so sorry,” Castiel said hurriedly, bursting into tears. As soon as he saw Balthazar he immediately felt if at all possible more guilty and shameful. Everything felt so much more date like, from the chick flick to the homemade dinner. _How did I ever think this was just friends hanging out? I'm so stupid._

“It was Dean, wasn’t it?” Balthazar asked softly, cringing as he saw the lube dripping on one of the end tables.

Castiel didn't know which was worse: that he already knew or that he had to ask, just on the off chance he had dragged some new guy into all this mess. He didn't know what to say, so he nodded.

“Look, Cassie,” Balthazar said, sitting on the couch, scooting the blankets onto the floor with his pinky like he knew exactly how this had gone. He patted the seat next to him, “I knew there would be some...slip ups…” he tried to word himself delicately, “...but, you’re trying, right?”

_Am I? If I were trying harder wouldn't this have never happened in the first place? I would have seen all the red flags and avoided this entirely? Or am I just that dumb?_

“It wasn't supposed to be like this. We were going to order a pizza and study together, like we used to when we were just friends. Then we decided to make pizza instead and that seemed okay. But then there was a movie and everything just kinda spiraled out of control. I...I just...I didn't mean to hurt you. I never wanted to do that. And now I have. I've ruined everything. I understand if you want to...I understand if you...I understand…” he said defeatedly, unable to finish the words.

“I don’t want the details,” Balthazar said quickly, “But I do want you. If you’ll keep trying, if you’ll have me. Cassie. We’ve been having fun, right? It  was just this one slip up because I was away...right?”

_Oh God... is that what he thinks? That it was because he was away and I couldn't keep it in my pants for that long?_

“It wasn't because you were away,” Castiel said almost defensively, “I mean...it wasn't like I just couldn't wait until you came back and I needed some kind of fix, you know? I mean it was a huge mistake and I'm sorry. I should have never let it happen, but it wasn't like it was planned or anything. I don't want you to think that. I am trying. It just...hurts a lot, and it's hard to just stop loving someone when you've been doing it for so long.”

“Maybe distance between the two of you would be for the best,” Balthazar said. Even though his words and demeanor were always calm, Castiel knew that there must be turmoil lurking beyond the surface, “Could you try that? If not for me, than, for yourself?”

“That's what I told him, before he left,” Castiel said quietly. He was quiet for a couple moments, tears still streaming down his face before he added, “I really didn't mean for this to happen. I'm so sorry, Balthazar. I can try...I can do that.” Castiel’s heart crumpled at the thought, and he hated that it betrayed him too.

“Are you still happy with your decision to be with me, love? I would never keep you if it meant your unhappiness.” He took Castiel’s hand gently in his. They were much smoother than Dean’s.

“I am,” Castiel cried more, “It’s just I keep messing up and I don't mean to. I never wanted to hurt you. You have to know that right? I'm so sorry, Balthazar. I'm so sorry.”

“There, there, love. I know. I know.”

 

* * *

 

It was 3:30 am when John woke to the smell of bacon, eggs, pancakes and toast. His bags, as well as Dean’s, were packed already and piled in front of the front door. Dean was fully dressed as he finished breakfast. Sam was already up too, not wanting to miss any excuse for bacon, his hair looking rather wild, one eye still closed as he sleepily chewed.

“Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine?” John remarked with a smile pouring himself a cup of coffee and drinking it black, “What's gotten into you?”

“I’m going,”Dean replied adamantly, handing John a steaming plate.

Sam's eyes went wide and he actually dropped the bacon in his hand. “If Dean's going can I go too, Dad? It's not fair if I have to stay! I need practice too!”

John sat down at the table, draining his coffee before starting on his own bacon. “Get your shit together and brush your damn hair before I get the clippers out.”

Sam jumped up so fast the chair flipped over.

“After breakfast, Sam,” John added, “Dean, sit your ass down and eat something.”

“Yessir,” Dean obeyed, sitting down, “We’ll need to stop by school,” Dean said, pulling out two premade school excuse notes from his bag. “So we should get this show on the road soon.”

“Bacon,” Sam and John both said in unison. John continued, “Breakfast, we'll load the car while Sam packs his shit. Then the school, gas and snacks, and then we'll stop by and pick up Cameron. He's a good kid. You should have more friends like him around.”

“I guess,” Dean shrugged, shoving a piece of bacon in his mouth. He figured he could maybe go his entire life without pizza again...or, at least a few days.

“Hey since we're stopping for snacks anyways can I take the poptarts and lucky charms Dean bought me?” Sam asked, before taking a big gulp of chocolate milk.

“If it fits in the car knock yourself out, kid,” John replied, getting up to pour another cup of coffee.

“I’ve got it, dad,” Dean said, getting up and taking both John and Sam’s cups, refilling John’s with piping hot coffee, and Sam’s with Nesquik and milk. If he couldn’t be good for Cas, maybe he could get back to something he used to be good at. The stakes were significantly lower now.

“Thanks, Dean! You’re the best!” Sam replied, chugging half the glass.

“Sure you’re feeling alright?” John asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Dean said, “I’m gonna get this shit in the car.” He dumped and rinsed his plate, loading himself up with bags, “Probably better to take Baby since there’s four of us. Tuned her up last night. She’s good to go.”

“You remember to air the tires up like I told you?” John asked, loading the dishes into the dishwasher.

“I said tune up, didn’t I?” Dean grinned, hauling the bags out the door, “Better hurry up, Sammy, or we’ll leave without you, brat.”

“You would not, Dean!” Sam jumped up, rushing to his room.

“Plate, Sam!” John called.

“Sorry, Dad,” Sam apologized, running back in to hand John his plate, fork, and cup, before hurrying back into his room.

Sam threw some clothes on, tossing more into a bag along with weapons, his Gameboy, and an entire pack of batteries. He raked through the knots in his hair, getting most of them out, before heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth and put some deodorant on. He tossed the hygiene products into the bag and zipped it shut. He threw his hat on and ran outside.

“Shotgun!” Sam called.

“Yeah right, get in back,” Dean argued.

“But I called it!” Sam looked pitifully to John who merely nodded to the back.

“Hurry it up Sammy! Ain’t got time to fuck around,” John barked.

“Can I at least tell Amber bye?” Sam asked a bit sadly.

“You want us to leave you here?” John questioned.

“No, Sir,” Sam scowled, climbing into the backseat.

“You can call her from the payphone when we stop for gas before we head out, alright?” John added, starting the Impala up.

Sam nodded, knowing it was probably the nicest thing his Dad could have said about the matter other than having her come along. But then there wouldn’t have been room for Dad’s new best friend.

“Don’t be like that, Sammy,” Dean said, putting Van Halen in the cassette player as Dad got in, “We’ll take shifts, like we used to. Besides, more room for all your snacks back there.”

Somehow it seemed fitting that Van Halen’s _Jump_ was playing. Dean couldn’t remember why.

The bottle and the closet were so long ago, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songlist for Chapter:  
> Break Stuff- Limp Bizkit  
> Last Dance With Mary Jane-Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers  
> Jump- Van Halen
> 
> Thank you all for your continuous love and support- you're all amazing!


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